


Edward Kenway x Reader: Run Away with Me

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Love, Pirates, Romance, Torture, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 10:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 28,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7798684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward Kenway takes a female reader away with him out to sea.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The First Night

**Author's Note:**

> {IMPORTANT: I am afraid that no more Jacob Frye/Assassin's Creed works will come from me having been harassed out of the fandom for nearly half a year. I've lost my drive and passion for it entirely, but I appreciate the support and love that has come from some of my readers. <3 Thank you all for the fun times, but because of the death threats and other absurd comments thrown my way via Tumblr, I'd rather forget about this fandom entirely. Do not expect anymore updates of these stories.}
> 
> This was a gift piece for a friend of mine--the entire series taking formation on its own over time. Enjoy~

Only a few more hours to go, or at least this is what you’re telling yourself as you clean up one of the tables in the tavern you’ve been working away at for several months now. Long hours with lousy coin of which to pay for what you needed, but hey—work was work. The back of your hand to your brow, you sigh with relief that everything appears just about in order only to lose that idea all together when you hear the door open once more to allow in customers.

Your eyes widen, heart racing to the point you feel breathless as your fingers clench the tray in your hands…that lousy Jackdaw Captain…

You weren’t exactly scared of him. If anything, he was such a regular that you got to know him fairly well. He could be a nuisance when drunk and angered, but he seemed to be doing his best not to go overboard on his liquor as of late. Whether that was to show restraint or some other personal reason or another was beyond your understanding, but Edward Kenway took his place at the bar all the same with a motion of his hand towards you.

“Mm?” you hum in confusion before making your way to where he was sitting with a rather ‘sure of yourself’ stature. “What will it be this evening, _Captain_ Kenway?” Your sarcasm was heavily noted on the ‘captain’, and in his blue eyes, it was obvious he heard it as well. You had to do everything in your power to stop yourself from smirking and acting self confident, but, to you, Edward Kenway was just a seadog who liked to cause problems now and again.

He gave you that sideways look and a slight raise of his brow just under his hood before his fingers finally pulled it back to reveal his face a bit better in the dim glow of the tavern. “I am sure you know what I like by now, lass,” he responded simply, a tone so low that you would think he was sharing some secret with you.

That you did. It was the same drink every visit, so you wasted no time in placing a clean tankard in front of him before filling it as he desired. Your thoughts were on going home for the evening as well as inwardly swearing his name for choosing to come in at this hour. “You’re in rather late,” you point out curiously (though doing your best to hide how annoyed you are at a last minute arrival when your feet are killing you). “Are you here just to annoy me once more?”

He laughed. Seemed whenever you were doing your best to act annoyed with him, he found it humorous. Edward took his drink and after a long sip of it, placed it roughly back upon the wooden countertop. “No, lass,” he answered with a shake of his head, a smile still upon his lips in the process. “Nothing like that.” He opened his hands slightly apart from one another on the wooden top of the bar with a shrug of his shoulders. “I just thought you might like some company tonight is all.”

You can feel your cheeks going bright red from a blush…or was it annoyance? He was always so ‘to the point’ with his words, and was now really the right time for it? “Company?” you repeat curiously, a hand on one hip while the other seemed to be drumming the fingertips upon the bar top not far from where he was drinking.

He didn’t answer. The Captain of the Jackdaw simply tilted his head in a way to which he could gaze into your eyes curiously as if hoping to find some window of opportunity you rarely gave. “Aye, company,” Edward repeated when you didn’t say much more.

His body relaxed when you still refused to answer, as you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. He looked frustrated with you, but playfully so. With a sigh, he explained: “I just happened to be in for the evening, and I was thinking about helping you with getting home.”

So, the truth finally came out, and it didn’t make the blush lessen. Why would **_the_** Captain Edward Kenway suddenly take an interest? He only seemed to cause problems, and what you wanted was money to pay for those candles and tables he broke weeks ago when getting in a brawl with some other drunkard. “Wh-Why would you desire such a thing?” you asked coyly, turning away to continue about cleaning up the tavern while he ‘ran his mouth’ so to speak.

“I just fancied a moment of your time to talk with ya if that’s alright, lass,” Edward explained in his defense, doing the best to quickly drain his tankard as he could tell that closing time would soon be upon him, and he had limited time of which to be there. The sound of the empty mug hitting the bar counter was evident even across the room where you were able to clean up the last table and accept whatever generous coin your patrons had spared.

Hearing the all too familiar sound, you don’t bother to look over your shoulder, as you don’t want that blush upon your face to be seen. “Finished?”

It sounded like Edward had removed himself from where he was sitting given the sounds behind you, and as you turn—sure enough—he was on his feet and motioning towards the door. “That I am,” he answered. “Are you ready to leave?”

He sounded so eager to get somewhere, and that made your body tense in ways even you couldn’t understand or describe. “Let me finish cleaning up, and I will be.” You’re trying not to sound nervous, but it was impossible at this point. He wanted to escort you home, and while that was more than welcome, all kinds of possibilities of what could happen played out in your head.

With the tavern cleaned up and prepared for the coming day, you made sure to close the door and be on your way just as Edward Kenway offered his hand to you, but for some reason…you declined it. You merely smile at the gesture as a means to say ‘thanks’ and walked beside him down the streets, which were becoming slowly quieter and quieter as everyone decided to turn in for the evening.

The streets could be dangerous at night for a woman, and you felt odd relief in his presence nearby as well as the rustling sound of his attire as he walked beside you. “Are you sure you don’t need to get back to the Jackdaw?” you asked, turning just in time to see him move his hood up and over his head again.

“No,” Edward answered simply, the smile that was upon his lips was almost shrouded in the dim lighting that night as well as the obscurity of his hood, but you just managed to catch it. “I needed to stock up on supplies, so it’ll be fine at the docks.”

With your house soon in sight, you move your dress out of the way of your shoes as you travel up the small stairway to get to the front door. A part of you felt relief, but the other sadness in the idea that this would probably be where he went to go find a place to rest. “Well, I am home. I thank you for the escort, _Captain_ ,” you say teasingly.

His hands on his hips, he looked down briefly at his shoes before gazing back upon you. “Care to invite me in?”

To the point, wasn’t he? The redness on your cheeks started to return, but it was so dark that he probably couldn’t see it, and the cool sea air was calming the rising heat. You debate what to say, but your mind feels so empty on answers, that a very weak response finally happens: “I…of course…”

A small laughter arose from his lips as he took the door and opened it out of your way to do the ‘ladies first’ routine. “I don’t bite, lass. You know this.”

“No, but you do pillage and slaughter men for a living,” you remind him, trying to get your mind off of the bashful ideas that were swarming through your head at that moment and nearly making the room swim as you ventured to the living room first to just sit down and kick your shoes off.

“I take what I need to survive,” Edward said, his arms across his chest as his heavy boots struck the wooden boards with such purpose, it was almost unnerving at first. “You know my story, lass, and I don’t plan on prattling on about it.”

It was true. You had known him for so long that he almost felt like that troublesome boy you tried to keep out of danger, but Edward Kenway would never be swayed from his piracy path. A part of you wanted to punch him just for giving you sleepless nights when he didn’t show up to port for weeks at a time like he usually did, but the other wanted to try and just accept it all and become numb to his adventures. “Then why are you here?” You finally have the nerve to look him in the eyes as he just stands there beside the sofa where you’re sitting. “You know after a long day at work, I will probably end up going to sleep.”

Edward moved his clothing out of the way of his knees, so he could kneel down in front of you and suddenly take your hands in a way you weren’t expecting. “I know you’re miserable here,” he said, his brow creasing in a way that almost resembled pain (or was it sympathy)? Your heart was beating too loudly in your ears to really be able to think straight. “I was just curious if you fancied coming aboard the Jackdaw and seeing how I live for awhile?”

A proposition? Your body felt weak, but it was still easy enough to slip your hand from his. “You mean, become a pirate…?” you question with a raise of your brow.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “No, I didn’t say that.” Edward had that look in his eyes and that tone in his voice—as if what he was saying was hard to take seriously. “Besides, who is to say you’ll be caught on my ship? I promise I will take care of you.”

You don’t answer this time. So many pros and cons were darting back and forth in your mind that it was hard to even latch onto one positive thought or idea, but there was one thing you knew: you did care about him, no matter what you said or did to try and hide that fact.

It seems he knew you were having a hard time making a decision, because seconds later, he had inched closer to be bold enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, as he probably knew anywhere else might be too daring. You almost acted on reflex of pushing him away, but something stopped you. Your hands only made it so far to his chest, but the energy to actually carry through to pushing him back evaporated, and you fell into his actions that evening.


	2. Stormy Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’ve been at sea with him for months now, still trying to understand ‘pirate life’ when a nasty storm hits. (I have RPs with a friend to thank for this)

Time was so obscure when at sea. Weeks could pass, and your mind would lose track of what month it was until you found yourself back at port. It was a carefree life—something you felt you always wanted or maybe needed, but at the same time your anxiety was high at the idea of being caught and dragged off to a prison to await execution for your crimes. Edward promised, many months ago, that he wouldn’t allow that, but you couldn’t help but worry all the same.

But, he has kept you out of trouble so far…right?

There were some occurrences were you worried he wouldn’t be able to get to you in time, but that was all because the guards were starting to recognize you more and more around certain ports and associated you with the Jackdaw crew, and neither of you expected that to happen. Heck, he even promised that it probably wouldn’t. It wasn’t like you were dressed like part of a pirate crew, and this did make escaping some situations hard with nice looking clothes.

When it kept occurring, you finally put your foot down on the matter and asked for something a bit more pirate like in appearance, so as to make escaping a bit easier should you need to.

“You could also teach me how to protect myself, you know,” you yelled at him later that evening in the captain’s quarters, but it seems your words always went unnoticed lately, as this wasn’t the first time you asked him to train you.

“That’s enough of that.” Edward’s voice was stern, or was he disinterested? It was hard to tell since he was too damn busy studying that map of his.

Your hands reached the circular table and slammed down not far from where his eyes were locked in an eager means to get his attention. It worked, for he jolted from his concentrated pose and looked at you fiercely. “I am serious, Edward!” Your eyes narrowed to match his own disapproving stare you would find yourself met with. “I don’t need you always coming to save me. I need to learn to use a damn sword at least!”

His expression was more obviously becoming anger oriented, but you refused to back down. You knew him better than his own crew. While he was a pirate, he was fair in his ways—at least you felt so—and did what he figured was best. The only time you could hardly stand him was when he went out drinking, and how he would come falling onto the Jackdaw with hardly a coin sack of sense in his actions. At home, you could kick him out of the bar at least and tell him to enjoy his headache in the morning, but here, you were locked in the same quarters with him since he refused to allow you to sleep below deck with his crew members.

“I told you that I would keep you out of trouble,” Edward reminded you with a frustrated gesture of his hand at nothing in particular. “And yet, here you stand, trying to get me to teach you the ways of my crew.” His voice sounded like some scolding parent, but you weren’t about to give up yet.

“You got me in trouble when you asked for me to board your ship,” you snapped back, getting closer to the captain and glaring at him with purpose. Your hands supporting your strength there on the table, you inched closer to him, as you were going to make sure you were heard. You wanted to no longer be the damsel in distress—you wanted to be part of his crew if that’s what his intention was those many months ago. “I am not your princess locked away in some dungeon for you to keep behind bars!”

It was obvious he took offense you would say such a thing, because his face was soon inches from yours, his chair scratched against the wooden boards as he took to his feet, and you could soon smell his horrible liquor stained breath. “I never said you bloody were!”

Your hands soon against his chest to push him away from you, you retaliated boldly. “You are acting like it!”

Silence.

All that could be heard was your labored breath from having mustered what courage you could to stand up to the infamous pirate, and he too apparently was huffing with annoyance at your choice of actions. Your body was tense and your face a flustered red, yet you didn’t even take into account that he was a pirate (childhood friend or not), and he could do whatever he wanted with you if he desired. Maybe you put faith in the idea he was **_not_** that kind of man.

Captain Kenway seemed to relax. His body no longer tensed and hunched in a means to make himself appear intimidating, he looked like a normal man who was mentally weighing his options. You watched closely his actions just in case one was to betray him or give any sign of what his intentions were. He grabbed at a goblet he had there on his table and merely drank what was left of it to try and settle his mind perhaps before tossing it off to the side. Edward’s blue eyes were still unreadable. His face seemed vacant, but you weren’t about to ask what it was he was thinking. You waited for him to speak.

“Very well,” Edward finally spoke, his knuckles digging into the map there beside him. “I will consider it.” You opened your mouth to retaliate, but he stopped you quickly with a raise of his hand. “I will…consider **_it_** …!” It was like the sentence was hard for him to say and he was stressing each word he could to emphasize his point. He was pointing at you with a furious look in his eyes—like you forced his hand to consider something he didn’t want to do.

Fair enough. At least you got a response out of him. Crossing your arms, you still give him the ‘evil eye’. “And?”

“And what?” Edward asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What can I do to at least prove myself I am worthy of training? I am sure there’s something I can do to entice a ‘yes’ answer out of you.” You wanted something to strive for. If he would give you more information, that would be divine, but the captain was quite the puzzle that refused to be solved it seemed.

His arm randomly reached out and hooked just below your mid-back to pull you closer. Out of reflex you almost pushed him away, but he had a firm hold onto you as he brought you closer to his chest. You still tried to be a respectful distance face wise as that smell on his breath was more than you could handle at times. “I will let you know when I consider it. That’s all I am going to say on the matter.”

“You’re damn impossible,” you whisper angrily, but you knew why he was set in his ways of protecting you, and you dared not even bring it up to him knowing how it would tug at his heart. Maybe this was why you found yourself inching closer to his lips and kissing him there as a means to thank him for his ways of protection, no matter how suffocating they were at times. It was something not even you were consciously aware of happening till your lips met, and as far as you knew, you were sober.

Edward didn’t seem to mind—you felt him tense for a moment, but he was easily accepting of it, it seemed, as he welcomed your unexpected kiss.

However, it felt cut short at the sound of the wind becoming more and more aggressive against the Jackdaw as well as the approaching sound of a thunderstorm. Pulling from the kiss, your gaze looked to the windows nearby and saw lightning fork through the sky. Seeing it kiss the waves of the ocean to entice them into an angry fury you worried…you’d been in a few storms out at sea, but each one wasn’t exactly comforting. You could hardly stand them on land and enduring them out at sea was most not much better.

“I have to get us out of here,” said Edward, pushing from you eagerly to head towards the wheel of the ship, but he stopped just at the door and motioned at you with purpose. “Stay here! I will return shortly!”

You reached out for him and took a single step forwards only to have him shut the door to leave you where you stood. God dammit! Had he been listening at all to what the two of you were talking about earlier? Even if the storm wasn’t something you enjoyed being out in, now felt like as good a time as any to prove your worth and what you were capable of. You could face your fears to prove that you were ready to be trained.

Taking that other step forwards, you nearly cried out in dismay as the Jackdaw took a nasty hit from the abrasive waves of the sea, but you stilled your voice and steadied your stance best you could with an eagerness gripping your body. “I will show him…!” you mutter to yourself before taking to the door and making it out to the craziness that had taken over the deck of the Jackdaw.

Edward was shouting all kinds of orders over the horrific bellow of the thunder and the loud creaking of the boat as he tried to do his best to steer to safety and not lose anybody. But, the sound of him yelling out your name was more than enough to make you turn to look upon him as though you were ready for action there in the horrible storm.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing!” his voice roared over the winds as he gripped onto the wheel of the Jackdaw tightly to keep it from slipping through his fingers as it so badly wanted to. “I told you to stay out of the way, lass!”

“You should know by now I don’t listen to your orders unless they suit me, Captain Kenway!” you yelled back in retaliation, hoping your fear wasn’t evident upon your tone. “Now, what do you need me to do!” You were trying your best to have your voice be heard while keeping your footing. Maybe it wouldn’t be obvious that you lacked that talent to shift with the ship like everyone else aboard.

Before he could even hope to respond to you, one of the crewmen shouted out a warning—a warning of an incoming massive way from portside. Turning your head, you felt your heart drop at the sight. It looked like the waves could just engulf you in one sweep of the ship’s deck. You heard Edward calling out your name again, but you couldn’t move or even speak for a second until the realization hit that if you just stood there, you’d be swept off of the ship and out at sea.

Finding your feet, you ran to the mainmast and grabbed onto the rope tied there to give you something to hold onto for your life. You managed just in time as the wave crashed upon the deck and took a few barrels and even crewmembers with it. Closing your eyes, you try to ignore the madness that’s going on around you and put all focus into your hold onto the mainmast’s rope you managed to obtain. You weren’t that strong, and the force of the water against you was reminding you of this fact. Cringing, you could feel the rope burn your palms as you struggle to keep it in your fists, but soon, the water relented, and you were the one standing on deck still.

 _Thank God I am alive_ , you thought to yourself before looking triumphantly for Edward once more to ask what it was you could do only to find him missing from the ship altogether. “Edward…?” you whispered, unsure of where he could have gone.

Then your worst fears are realized when you hear those words: Captain overboard!

Running as quickly as your feet will take you to the starboard side of the ship to find that the captain was indeed out at sea and unconscious at that while just managing to hold onto a portion of the Jackdaw that had gone with him. “ ** _EDWARD!_** ” Hoping your words would rouse him, you waited only a moment until you realized he was out cold and you had to do something, or you could lose him forever.

Adéwalé had taken the wheel at that moment, as he couldn’t afford the Jackdaw to be lost to the sea as well.

“I am going after him!” you shout over the storm to the quartermaster without another word on the matter and jumped quickly into the water not even thinking that you too could probably drown. If anything, that was the furthest thought from your mind. You just worried about losing Edward Kenway.

Swimming was something you knew well enough living close to port. You were taught at a young age, so you had that on your side and at least decent clothing (this time) to help in swimming to the captain you could just see above water. But the waves were ruthless, and they would do their damn best to push you under while doing the same to the unconscious Captain of the Jackdaw. But you wouldn’t give up. No, not yet and certainly not anytime soon. But the sea had different plans, and what small part of Edward was able to be conscious enough to hold onto the floating debris of the Jackdaw weakened, and you saw him go under.

Your heart squeezed at the sight and your body felt the weakest it ever felt. “EDWARD!” Screaming wasn’t going to do a damn thing, and you knew this, but it was the first word that slipped from your mouth before you dove under the water and swam as quickly as you could towards the sinking captain.

The water was still ruthless, and you could feel it trying to punch at you like some drunk brawler at the inn and keep you from reaching your target. But finally, just within reason, you were able to grab his hand.

He was heavy as hell. You almost forgot how much so and nearly sank a bit with him, but putting all your energy into your legs, you swam as quickly as possible to the surface and gasped for air when you broke through. He was still out cold, it seemed, but you kept his head above water so that he could breathe. “Th-The Jackdaw…” you murmured over the raging storm, trying to not let the seawater into your mouth as it continued to try and mercilessly dunk you under again. “Where is it…!”

Great. Nowhere. It was nowhere in sight now, and even then trying to swim to catch it would be more than out of the question. You knew you had to find something…anything to hold onto or…Land! Not far away was a spot of land that would do for the time being. Keeping your arms underneath his own, you swam with all your might—pushing against the current best you were able to make it to salvation.

Your legs felt like jelly upon arriving and your arms were sore and hard to move as well, but you couldn’t think about that just yet. Pushing Edward Kenway upon the wet sand of the island you both found yourself, you checked to make sure he was alright. Still breathing…that was a good sign…you could kill him later. Tapping his cheeks to get him to wake up at least, you heard him moan and stir ever so slightly. “Edward? You better be alright, damn you!”

Edward moved his right arm to his forehead as if to quell a headache. “What…what happened…?” he murmured, opening his blue-eyes slowly to the scene about him.

You were tired. Exhausted. You felt your entire body just want to give out from relief at that moment. Laughing briefly at his question, you punched his shoulder (not thinking clearly upon doing so that he could be injured). “You fell off the Jackdaw!”

“Bloody Christ,” Edward hissed at your retaliation, rubbing the spot you hit with a shake of his head. “Did I?” His eyes shifted back and forth to try and recall the events prior to his adventures overboard, no doubt. “Did you see anything?”

You shook your head wondering why that made a difference. “No,” you respond honestly. “All I saw was you at sea after the wave struck and nearly capsized us.”

That answered pleased him as he shrugged it off. “I was clumsy it seems.” He tried to move, but in his attempts to do so, he cringed and said a few choice swear words at the pain rocketing through his body.

“‘Clumsy’?” You weren’t satisfied with that answer and guided him to his back once more, as it appeared him moving was causing massive discomfort. “You’re the bloody Captain of the Jackdaw, and you’ve endured worse storms before, and your response is ‘you were clumsy’?” You wanted to punch him again, but you stilled your hand. “You nearly got yourself killed!”

Edward seemed to find it humorous. He laughed wearily at your words as he lay there on the welcoming sand with a shrug of his brows. “Aye, lass—that’s all I can give ya.”

You wanted to ask what secret he was hiding as to why he fell overboard, but you decided not to. His health was more important right now. “Can you move at all?”

“Rather shit like if you’ve not noticed,” he scoffed, his arms remaining outstretched on the land beneath him as he was regaining his energy. “I hit my side on the railing on my way over. I think I might have damaged something there.”

“I am no healer,” you remind him as you know lying out in the rain wasn’t going to make things better. “However, I have to move you somewhere dry.” Your eyes surveying the land, you notice that the palm trees will probably do well enough as there was a decent cluster about the island you found. “Come on then.”

Your arms underneath his own again, you dragged him backwards towards the welcoming shelter Mother Nature had granted you only to have him carry on about the pain along the way. It broke your heart to hear. He was usually such a strong man who rarely got banged up, and if he did, he walked it off or bandaged himself in private. Now it just sounded like you were torturing him the more you moved him.

“I am sorry…!” you apologize, lying him at the base of the trees. “I didn’t mean to cause you more pain!”

Edward hissed in agony with a shake of his head. “No,” he strained with a bearing of his teeth. “I-It’s fine, lass.” He shook his head to try and stay focused as the lack of energy and pain were about to make him pass out, it seemed. “Besides…it is I who should apologize to you.”

You were listening as you situated his head into your lap to let him rest a bit more comfortably.

“You, out of my entire crew, jumped overboard to save me.” Edward found some irony in this, it seemed and tried to laugh, but laughter was hurting him more than anything. He paused for awhile, and you thought for sure he might have fallen asleep until he spoke up again. “When I am better…when I am better, I will train you as you wish.”

Your fingertips moved his wet hair from his face with a smile of accomplishment. “I would hug you as thanks, but I have a feeling you might not like that right now.”

He moved ever so slightly as if to shrug, but that made him tense from what you could feel. “Mmm, when I am better, I reckon.” Edward exhaled to calm his pain riddled body. “Then I am sure you can do as you please.”

You hated to be the bearer of bad news, but there was that bit of information you hadn’t addressed yet. “I hate to tell you, but…I don’t know where the Jackdaw is. I am not certain how long we’ll be out here.”

Edward seemed less concerned. He appeared to have more faith in the idea that you both would be alright in due time. “Just have to wait it out, lass,” he reminded you with a strained tone as the pain was flaring up again, probably. “We’ll be rescued…I know Adéwalé won’t leave us stranded here.”

And so you took him at his word and waited out through the storm together—proud that you at least proved your worth to him beyond being a ‘pirate princess’, and that the Captain Kenway didn’t drown that evening.


	3. Let the Training Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edward Kenway teaches the reader to fight for herself.

You were anxious. You had been eagerly waiting that day that Captain Kenway would be better to teach you to become a fighter like him as he had promised weeks ago when you both were marooned for a period after a bad storm. Edward could obviously tell you were apprehensive as you were constantly moving about—unable to sit still for too long.

“Am I going to have to lock ya in my room, lass?” Edward asked, sounding annoyed at your pacing above deck as you stayed with him and Adéwalé while Edward steered the ship onwards to Kingston.

You grumbled. Standing still there on deck with your arms crossed, you gave a sarcastic look. “Forgive me, Captain Kenway, for being the least bit eager to do what you promised me those weeks ago.”

“And forgive me for having to take that time to heal,” Edward retaliated sarcastically before motioning to a bucket not far from where you both stood. “If you have the energy, use it then!”

You followed what he was gesturing at. Putting two and two together, you looked back at him confused. Very rarely had he asked you to clean the ship (though, admittedly, you’d do it of your own accord when you got bored and were left on the Jackdaw while Edward replenished his ship.) “You want me to clean the Jackdaw?”

“Is such a task below you?” Edward questioned, as he wasn’t used to such a tone from you before.

Grumbling at his ‘to the point’ choice of words, you shook your head. “No, I didn’t say that. I just never had you ask such a thing of me before.” At this point, you made your way over towards the bucket filled with days old water and the old hand towel there beside it. The water was gross. You were glad your back was turned to the Captain, or else he’d probably see you scrunch up your nose at just the sight of the off-colored liquid.

Edward turned his attention back to the endless ocean before him, steering the ship onwards with one hand lazily as the weather allowed him to. “Consider it part of your training then.”

“First of all, you’ll need better and cleaner water than this if you’re going to want me to clean the Jackdaw,” you admitted, showing him what was still left in the bucket.

Looking over at the water you were speaking about, he shrugged his brow before turning the wheel of the ship to avoid the upcoming islands in his path. “We’ll get cleaner water when we port then.”

Since you took it as a signal to dump it overboard, you did so to empty out the bucket. “Second of all, how is washing a ship going to help me with being able to fight for myself? It certainly won’t teach me to cut down Templars or guards at any speed.”

Edward looked at you out of the corner of his eye with a raise of his brow. “Did you think sitting here reading was doing anything for your body and muscles?”

You had no idea how to respond to that. It was true, but he almost made it sound like you had been lazy. “Does running away from Templars and guards count for anything?” you asked as a serious joke, casually making your way closer to him.

Adéwalé was trying not to butt into the affairs between you two at all times, but that didn’t stop him from stifling an obvious laugh at your counter. He seemed content to be silent until Edward refused a response. “Caught you there, did she, Captain?”

Sighing with a shake of his head at Adéwalé’s comment, he motioned towards him. “Whose side are you on, Adé?”

You tried not to laugh or act in the least bit of triumphant that someone was on your side for a change, but a smile crept upon your lips all the same.

“I am on the side of reason,” Adéwalé responded cryptically as he moved with the motion of the ship. “You vow to protect her—then do so! Recovery was one thing, but you’ve not recovered from the idea of teaching her how to wield a blade or fire a gun.”

Silence spread across the ship like a plague. You knew Edward was still leery of the idea of training you, and you wanted to know he was going to take this seriously. Fidgeting behind your back, you waited for him to say something as you could just see Kingston coming into view upon the horizon.

Edward sighed and his body loosened as he seemed to relent. “I was never a man to go back on my word,” he swore honestly to those who would listen. “I promised I would train her, and…I will.”

The hesitation in his voice was a bit jarring for some reason to you. You knew this was hard for him. While he never told you, you were left to your own thoughts as to why this was such a challenge for him.

 

 

Kingston—it was nice to finally be on land again. It seemed like you practically lived at sea nowadays with Edward Kenway becoming quite infamous. Sadly, you couldn’t praise the notion of being able to shop or even enjoy the sights as Edward was quick to escort you out of sight of the guards and off to where he could speak to you in private just under the shadow of an overhang. His hand upon your upper arm was rough…almost feeling as though you had said or done something wrong, so your eyes and ears were upon him to wonder what it was that could cause such a grip.

His eyes meeting yours from under his hood he had shrouding him now, he pointed at you intently. “Listen to me,” he began in a hushed, almost desperate whisper. “You have to be bloody serious when you tell me you want to train with me, lass.” He kept pausing ever so often to look around—obviously he was nervous at the idea you both would be caught. Was he always this way when you weren’t around? He seemed so paranoid all of a sudden. When you even so much as took your eyes off of him for a second to just watch a passerby, he grabbed your upper arms again and shook you like some small child who was being scolded by her father. “Look at me!”

“Christ!” you swore softly, tensing your body at his touch. “I’m listening!”

“I am not going to go easy on ya if this is what you decide you want,” Edward explained in a very cold tone. “If you want to train then…I’ll make sure you’re better than me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that thought. “I don’t think I would be that good, Edward.”

He bared his teeth and hissed through them. “Swear it to me that you’ll try!”

His tone was so harsh that it took you by surprise. You recoiled slightly at his demeanor but recovered soon enough to respond. “I swear it.” When he didn’t seem satisfied with that answer, you sighed. “Look, whatever you ask of me…I’ll do it. No questions asked.”

Edward removed one of his swords he had on him and handed it over to you at that moment. You admired the craftsmanship of the blade, as it looked quite ornate for such a simple weapon. The hilt was made of silver and had almost otherworldly designs upon it. “You don’t know how to load a pistol, so I won’t give you one of those yet,” he reminded you before motioning towards the surrounding forest beyond Kingston’s boundaries. “You see that rocky formation there?”

You squinted your eyes to make the sun’s light a bit more manageable and nodded reluctantly, as you could only assume that what you saw jetting out over the back of Kingston was what he was going on about. “Yes…what of it?”

Here, he patted you on the back harshly. “I want you to meet me up there for training.”

“Wh-Wait… ‘meet you’?”

Edward seemed to find some sort of sick amusement from your worry. “Yes. I want you to get there without any problems.”

It seemed he was fine to just say that and leave you to your own devices. It made you nearly fall over yourself in worry and confusion. “B-But there are guards about! They know who the hell we are! I could get killed going up there alone!”

Edward turned on his heels and laughed to himself. Wiping his mouth with his hand, he stood there with his hands on his hips as if to taunt you with his wit. “You said you could outrun Templars, aye? Is this so different?”

You wanted to throw a rock at him—something! Any blunt object would do as he could be so frustrating at times. “Edward, I know training isn’t going to be easy, but do you really have to make it so hard from the beginning!” you scolded in a high whisper.

“Hide in plain sight,” Edward explained where he idly stood. “Use the world around you to your advantage, and you would be amazed at how easy it is to get where ya need to go.” That seemed to be enough for him to wave to you as he turned around and headed onwards to the destination he pointed out earlier. “Good luck.”

Frozen in place, you only had to blink to have Edward just disappear into the crowd of Kingston. “But—!” It was no use. He was already gone, and it was up to you to prove that you wouldn’t go back on your word to him. Sighing out your irritation as well as your worry that you might not make it there in one piece, you straightened yourself up and did as Edward suggested: hide in plain sight.

To say it was an easy ride would be lying to yourself and whatever higher being there was watching and laughing at you. You thought just running from two guards would be fine…but then there ended up being five the further on you carried. Hearing the guns being fired was almost enough to make your body go numb. They knew who you were, and they wanted you in custody one way or another to get to Captain Kenway.

“Why couldn’t he just have given me some smoke bombs or something?” you said to yourself as you hurried through the oncoming jungle happily in hopes Edward would possibly jump in and save the day.

Sadly, that was not to be, but the jungle was so thick it was easy enough to hide within the bushes and remain out of sight long enough to let your tracks go cold. You almost wanted to wait for nightfall to even bother coming out of hiding, but you knew you couldn’t allow that to happen. Trying to go through the jungle without a light of some sort would be hell, so, when the commotion died down in an hour or so time, you gathered your courage and headed onwards to the jutted rocky formation Edward mentioned earlier.

It was a rocky, strip of mass…leading to the mouth of a cave, it seemed. Realizing that you had made it, you placed your hands on your thighs and tried to catch your breath. It was such a long way there, and you hated to admit it, but you were sweaty and already out of breath from all the chaos beforehand. You just wanted to sit down for a moment and rest your legs.

“Rough time?” Edward’s voice asked, shaking you from your relaxed state.

Standing to attention to try and not look so…well…exhausted, you looked for the captain and found him relaxing there upon the nook of a tree branch in one of the surrounding trees. His leg hanging lazily over the side while he happily relaxed with his dagger picking away at whatever was under his nails, he turned to look at you with a rather smug look.

“You could…” when you tried to speak, you realized how dry your throat was from all the running and panting earlier. It hurt a bit to even swallow. “…You could have at least given me some of your smoke bombs!” you chastised breathlessly with a weak and weary gesture to him.

Edward chuckled to himself. Pocketing his knife, he did a leap off of the tree branch and landed perfectly not far from you. “I gave you advice, love. It’s not my fault you didn’t use it to your advantage.”

“Is it not a teacher’s job to teach me how to put this advice to use?” you criticized, watching him closely as he circled you like some vulture.

“I wanted to see how serious you were about the training—I wanted to see if you’d actively come up here or cower back to the Jackdaw,” said the captain as he unsheathed his swords. “Do you honestly think I’d let anything happen to you?” He no doubt saw the disapproving look on your face, causing him to move in closer to you to where you could smell his awful liquor stained breath. “I was in the trees the entire time, trying not to laugh at what an arse of yourself you were making.”

You pushed him back out of spite of his words. “Some gentlemen you are!” you grumbled, only to have him laugh at your anger that was written all over you at that point.

In a split second, however, he was quick to use one of his blades. Taking the flat part of his cutlass, he tripped you up and off of your feet. Your backside met with the rough, uneven ground soon enough with a loud thud—causing you to drop your weapon upon impact, and before you could hope to get up and retaliate in some fashion, the tip of his other blade was inches from your face. You weren’t sure what it was he had in mind, but you could now understand how fearful others were when they met the end of this pirate’s sword. The fact he had his face covered made him appear as the Grim Reaper himself in some respects, and, while you had known him for years now, you found yourself almost intimidated and at a loss for words with him staring down at you in such a fashion.

The assassin smirked, turning the other blade near your face flat as well and using it to cup underneath your chin and get you to look at him better. “I would suggest we work on bettering your reflexes first,” he said, a small laughter hanging on every word.

Since he had given you a leather glove to better protect your arms and hands, you didn’t feel too ashamed to brush the blade away from you so that you could accept Edward’s help in regaining your footing. “Well, doesn’t help you’ll always catch me off guard, that’s for sure.”

“Do you think the Templars care if they do that to you? Do you think the guards will think twice about whether or not you are ready for their attack?” Edward asked, sounding a bit irritated at your choice of words. “Dammit, lass,” he hissed, sheathing one sword. “Think logically! The moment they see a weakness in you, they will go right for it!”

You knew what you said was probably not the most rational thing to say, but you were aware that your enemies wouldn’t be as kind as Edward would be. Raising your hand to stop his verbal assault, you asked: “What do you want to work on? My reflexes?”

“No,” he answered, nodding towards the sword you had been given. “You need to learn to protect yourself first. Your reflexes will come in time.” When he saw you pick up your blade, he stood limply before you with his own at his side. “Now, come at me.”

The idea of coming at Edward with a blade was rather unexpected and something that worried you. What if you actually hurt him? You knew you weren’t qualified to even lay a hand on him, but what if you actually did by some set of circumstances? The fear swelled in your stomach and the grip on your weapon weakened.

“Stop standing there like you’re going to piss yourself,” Edward scolded as he tapped the end of his own blade on the ground. “Come at me!” His voice was a lot more demanding. It was as if it were a threat he would come at you if you didn’t do as he asked.

“A-Are you sure you want me to? I don’t know how to swing this thing! I could—!”

But before you could voice your concerns, Edward attacked. Seeing him coming at you with his own cutlass about to come down on you, you held your scream in your throat and raised the sword above you to stop his blade. You felt triumph when the swords made a satisfying ‘ ** _shing_** ’ of a sound when they intercepted one another. However, you couldn’t enjoy that moment for long, as Edward was able to make a semi circle motion with his weapon and push the blade out of his way and out of your hands before using his heavy body to knock you down to the soil once more.

You felt the wind knocked out of you as soon as you landed. Again, you were on the ground. How many times was this going to happen? He and the others made fighting seem so easy. Seems now it was a lot more difficult than you gave it credit for.

The sound of leather stretching teased your ears as the captain squatted down to your level; he dug the end of his blade into the earth nearby your head in attempts to gain your attention. Once again, he was looking like that deadly captain of death. It was as though he was a totally different man when in this training disposition. “I am not going to waste my damn time if you’re not going to be serious, lass,” Edward expressed in disapproval. “If you want to learn to wield a blade, fuckin’ come at me!”

A rock was not far from where your hand was upon the ground. He never said he didn’t care if you fought dirty. Your fingers gripping onto it in desperation, you tried to make a quick move to at least strike him once, but yet again—he was faster.

Edward grabbed your wrist, squeezing it so tightly it made you cry out in pain as you dropped the rock you held. When he saw you release it, he pushed your hand back down to your side. “Again,” he demanded, standing back to his feet.

You were out of breath from the experience, but you weren’t tired anymore. A part of you fueled by anger that he was getting the best of you, you wasted no time in taking up the sword once more and doing as he asked previously and coming at him.

Easily you could remember how sure of himself he was just standing there waiting for you to attack. When you swung your blade, he countered. From the top, he would merely cause a barrier with his one sword and push it down and away from him. From the sides, he would step back and use the flat part of his blade again to push you back. If you even tried to lunge at him, he would move to the side and jab his boot into your lower back to make you fall on your face.

“Don’t do that,” Edward scolded the third time you tried to lunge at him and landed on your hands and knees from his counter. “You’re putting everything into your upper body, leaving the rest of you weakened and off guard to be countered and killed.”

You were panting now. Hardly did you have the energy to keep up with Captain Kenway as you had hoped you would. Turning to look at him best you could through your hair, which was sticking to your sweaty brow at this point, you sighed irritably. “You are…too hard for me to read…!”

“Is this going to be our training?” he asked disapprovingly. “You just making piss-poor excuses?” When you didn’t respond, he walked over towards you and grabbed your face to get you to look at him. “You are not back home, alright?” His tone was serious again—angered, almost. “You are with me now, and whether you like it or not, that makes you a target and part of the Jackdaw crew. They will not show you mercy if they find out what relation you have to me. You will find yourself rotting in a prison if they catch you! You have to fight with the thought that I might not be there to rescue you.”

If his intent was to instill fear into you, it was working. You never wanted to imagine a moment where Edward might not be able to save you. Always, you viewed him as the hero to your story, and the thought of the hero not coming to save the day was frightening in a sense. You didn’t answer him as there was nothing you could say. Maybe your body language would be enough to make him understand that you were listening and grasped what he meant when you lowered your head and looked away from him.

Edward massaged between his eyes, sheathing his sword and then helping you to your feet yet again. “Come on, then. Let’s get water and head back to the Jackdaw.”

“Good,” you sighed, as you had lost your energy and just wanted to rest now honestly. “Now if we could just get some without worry of the guards chasing us all the way there.”

“I won’t worry about them,” Edward insisted. “I can handle them if they try to make a ruckus. Besides, I got the water earlier while you were heading up here. We just have to watch for them on our way back.” Heading towards the mouth of the cave, he dragged out a carrying pole, which usually rested upon ones’ shoulders to carry two buckets full of anything. “You’ll be needin’ this.”

You were confused. Why would you need a carrying pole? As he helped situated it on your shoulders, he dragged the buckets of clear water he had gotten earlier towards the hooks fashioned on either side. “Am I carrying the water to the Jackdaw for some reason?” Admittedly, you almost toppled to one side when he only put the one on your right.

“For training in balance,” Edward answered with a satisfying smirk at you nearly losing your poise. “I want you to get this to the Jackdaw without spilling a drop.”

“And if I spill some of it?” you asked, curious what that would mean as he situated the other one.

“Then I’ll have you standing like this on the deck of the Jackdaw naked until we reach a new destination to get fresh water,” Edward said simply.

He was laughing…a bit…maybe he was joking? You could only hope so as you were horrified that he would even think of something such as that. “That’s a joke…aye?”

Edward scrunched up his face as if to debate whether or not he was, or to make it seem ambiguous as to his means. “Spill some right now and see if I am joking.”

You dared not test him. Gathering your strength into your legs and upper back, you looked to him curiously. “Okay then…how is this supposed to help with balance?”

Edward motioned for you to follow behind him on his way down the rocky pathway not far from you both. “You’ll be learning to use the trees and rooftops to your advantage in the future. In order to jump from one to the other, you need a sense of balance no matter what the weather will permit and no matter what stress the situation may bring.”

“And balancing on the Jackdaw means nothing?” you asked with a playful scoff.

“I’ve seen your ‘balance’. You’re as graceful as a drunken mule,” he insulted as he nudged you onwards, nearly making you lose your footing, but you caught it just in time. “Now, let’s get going.”

It was an easy journey to the Jackdaw until you got to the crowds of Kingston. People didn’t care you had water to try and get to your location. If they could nudge past you, they would gladly do so. It did cause bits of the water to spill over the rim of the bucket, and you inwardly panicked knowing Edward no doubt saw that.

“Keep going, for God’s sake,” Edward ordered whenever you would stop and look at him when it happened. “I don’t have all day to get to the Jackdaw, and you walk like you have iron shackles to your feet.”

You might as well have had such things upon your ankles. The water was heavy and felt like you were carrying logs to the fireplace strapped to your upper back, or at least some small child upon your shoulders. Regardless, you did your best with Edward barking at you from behind.

Relief washed over you when you found yourself on the deck of the Jackdaw. You could finally relax for a change. “Alright,” you began breathlessly, “get this thing off of me.”

Crewmembers came to your aid and removed the water buckets from the carrying pole. With the pole removed from your shoulders shortly after, you sighed out your exhaustion. Edward looked to you curiously and motioned once more for you to follow him. “Come with me,” he insisted before pointing to Adéwalé, “Take the wheel and head out to sea. I’ll be up here soon.”

You were ushered to the captain’s quarters, and honestly, you just wanted to rest your head down for a moment. Before you could even think to do so, you heard Edward unsheathe his sword and, soon, you found your clothes nearly falling off of your body as the blade had cut your attire from behind. You scrambled to grab the fabric and hide yourself with a bright blush. “Edward!” You scolded loudly. “What are—!”

He grabbed your wrist and made you drop the clothes without a second thought—allowing them to fall completely off of your body and expose you in your undergarments. “Leave them,” he demanded, his grip firm as he kept your hand near your face. “I said I would do this if you spilled anything on the way back, didn’t I?” Edward released your hand when he saw you were stunned from disbelief to do much about the situation. “I only don’t have you on the deck, because I’ve not spoken to the lads yet.”

You struggled to try and keep yourself dignified, but that was a challenge with most of you exposed. “You are such a bastard…!”

Smirking, Edward grabbed your chin and got you to look into his eyes. “Don’t act like it’s something I’ve not seen before.”

You were too red in the face to really find the words to respond. Sure, if you wanted to be honest, he had seen everything before, but that didn’t give him the right to do so whenever he pleased with your body. The clothes you cared little about as they were clothing choices picked out by Edward. It was not something you bought with your own money, and you felt he was free to do what he pleased with them.

Making you sit down on the bedside, he sighed at your bewildered expression. “Lie down for now,” he ordered. “You get off easy since you’re so tired, and this is your first time.”

Waiting for Edward to leave the room, you looked down at the bed, which was pretty inviting at this moment, and did as he suggested. As you lay there upon your back staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but think back on the day’s progress. He was so different than you expected he would be when training you. He was tougher…harsher…not as forgiving. You could only hope there was some method to his madness, as the last thing you wanted to do was feel emotionally strained when it came to his training.

 

 

When next you opened your eyes, you found that night had set upon the sea and Edward was nowhere to be found. You weren’t docked at any port, so you knew he had to be on deck somewhere. It was odd to you that he wouldn’t at least be asleep or in the captain’s quarters somewhere.

Your feet finding the wooden boards of the ship, you wrapped yourself up in the intricate blanket that was lying messily over the main covers of the bed. Making it to the doors, you pushed them open to hear a conversation that was already occurring between Edward and Adéwalé on the poop deck. Staying out of sight of the two, you listened closely.

“So this is how you hope to train her?” you heard Adéwalé ask. “Just have her be made a fool of?”

“Whatever it takes to make her learn,” came Edward’s voice. “All she has been doing is making excuses so far.” He hissed angrily at something. “God, Adé, you should have seen her today! I am not going to go easy on her, or I just damn well sent her to her death.”

Adéwalé was silent for awhile. Perhaps to gather his thoughts. Who knew, as you couldn’t very well see them interacting. “Tell me, Captain—what drives your anger and resentment in this so much?”

Edward didn’t respond right away. He merely scoffed.

“It is only us and the sea,” Adéwalé pointed out, as if to ease him into the mood. “Nobody else has to know Captain Kenway has a heart.”

He was joking, of course, and Edward knew this as he stifled a small laugh in his throat. “I am used to the thrill,” Edward began to explain as you found yourself propping up against the nearby doors to listen a bit more lazily as you were still tired from the training earlier that day. “I am used to doing as I need and taking as I please with these men who were content to do the same no matter what cost it meant at their lives. But…with (Y/N), it is different.”

You stiffened at the sound of your name for some reason. Perhaps the realization of knowing you shouldn’t be listening was starting to kick in.

“How so?”

“I asked her to join me, because I thought I could get her away from that damn tavern,” Edward explained, as if he found such a job you did below you. “She worked there from sun up to bloody sun down only to be paid in liquor stains and piss. I thought if I got her out here on the ship, she would have a taste at a better life. I gave her riches and promises of a future she’d be happy to embrace.”

Adéwalé voice came once more. “And what changed?”

“You know what changed,” Edward’s voice scolded. “The guards are recognizing her more and more, and she’s becoming a target…all because of me.” He whispered those last few words, and you almost didn’t catch them. You knew, with how heavy they sounded, he was full of regret. “I promised her a better life—to always protect her—but now all she’s doing is running from danger. I don’t want to imagine finding her dead in a prison somewhere or on the streets of Kingston or Havana or…anything.”

“And training her is such a bad idea?” Adéwalé probed curiously.

Edward sighed. “That is why I am so tough with her. I want her to be strong, but at the same time…I don’t want to be such a damn awful teacher that she lands herself in worse trouble. Being kind and forgiving to her would be the worst thing I could do for her, Adéwalé!”

You heard Adéwalé lean forwards on the railing above you, and your heart began to pound in your ears as you saw his hands overlapping above your hiding spot. All he would have to do is look down and call Edward to your attention, and it would be over then. Out of reflex, you pushed yourself far into the nook of the doorway and the staircase leading up to the poop deck in hopes of not being spotted, even if there was nowhere else for you to go unless you wanted to gain courage to open the doors and escape the scene.

“And have you told (Y/N) this? If you continue to be rough to a woman like that, she is going to resent you.”

“No, but…I guess I just hoped she’d figure that out for herself,” admitted Edward.

Knowing that you couldn’t afford to stick around much longer, you let their conversation continue without you as you quietly snuck back into the captain’s quarters. Your legs felt like rubber as you leaned against the doors for support, slowly finding your way down to the floor with a sigh. You realized how much everything had changed in the blink of an eye. Edward was trying to give you something to look forward to every day, but, in its own somber way, it backfired. Instead of getting fired from your job and living on the streets, you could now be hanged, shot, or rot away in some holding cell. With everything coming into focus of how dire the situation was made your throat dry and your body weak. Going to sleep and not waking up for awhile might not be a bad choice…but…

As you brought your knees to your chest, you remembered what Edward had said. He had promised to take care of you and do his best to make you a fighter equal to his caliber. But, you knew in order for this to work, you had to meet him halfway. “No more excuses,” you murmured to yourself as you found the energy to push yourself to your feet. “I am going to get better at this even if it does kill me.”

And with that, you set yourself to bed.

 

 

\--

 

Edward could easily tell you were different in the coming months as you worked hard to learn how to use a sword and gun. As usually to begin with, you still weren’t able to read him as clearly, and even when you thought you had, he changed up his ways of attacking and catching you off guard. You found yourself always on your toes, and maybe anybody else would find that stressful, but it did invigorate you every time you found yourself off of the Jackdaw or even helping to try and fight off opposing ships who tried to take you and the crew down.

“Impressive,” Edward complimented one day as you were both practicing at Havana. You were able to keep his sword attacks at bay without a single sign of a struggle in doing so. Even if you lost your nerve, you found it quicker than usual and countered. “But the question still remains: can you catch me off guard?”

“You mean leap out of the bushes and threaten to stab you like you do most people?” you asked with a breathlessly laugh as the training had been long, and you would kill for a drink to stage off the sweat that poured from your brow.

“I don’t threaten, lass,” Edward corrected as he kept his swords out and at the ready. He pointed about the lush jungle around you. “I’ll go onwards to the grove not far from here. Meet me there, and we’ll see what you can manage.”

“You act like I am training to become an assassin such as yourself,” you said with a laugh. “You already denied me the hidden blade, so what is your game, Captain?”

“The blade is not mine to give,” the Jackdaw Captain smirked. “Besides, assassin or not, it is wise to be prepared for whatever may come for ya.” Sheathing his swords, he quickly turned on his heels and ran for the dirt path not far away.

You let him go onwards—waiting till he was out of sight before picking up behind him. Finding the grove no problem, you kept low to the ground with your sword out and ready. He was there and within sight just near the center of the copse. However, as you tried to do your best to sneak about, a twig happened upon your path and in causing it to snap, you saw Edward lift his head from where he was relaxing near the tranquil waterfall.

“You’re off to a bad start, love!” he shouted over his shoulder, standing to his feet steadily with his cutlasses still in his hands.

Quickly, you sank towards the bushes not far from a tree. Your back against the wooden trunk, you bit upon your lower lip to prevent yourself from saying anything. The last thing you wanted to do was alert him further to your presence. You could hear him roaming, and you were quick to take a glance at what he was doing.

He was moving towards you slowly. Great. He knew where you were already. Throwing something to distract him would be too obvious at this point. He would see it. Just running out to face him would be pointless. He would no doubt consider that a loss. Your mind racing with ideas, you waited for that moment where he was looking away from where you were and darted in the opposite direction to hide in the brushes there.

As you circled your way behind him, you felt relief as you escaped his grasp. Watching as he was carefully twiddling away at the bushes there where you once were, you gathered up what energy you could in her legs and sprung silently forwards to try and close the gap between you. His back getting closer and closer, you readied your sword in attempts to trip him up, but just as you were within reach, the assassin spun around and stopped you with his callus hand to your throat and the other to your wrist. His hand to your throat prevented you from shouting in surprise at least, and you could hardly move your weapon hand with your wrist in his grasp.

“Try again,” he demanded, pushing you back and away from him.

You grumbled at your failure to catch him as you thought you would. When his back turned away from you, you quickly took to the trees this time. Maybe with the aid of the birds and other wildlife causing noises, you could get away with it.

Watching from above, you could tell that he was just standing there listening to you. Finding a nice, sturdy branch to rest upon, you squatted there and waited for him to venture by you.

“You make too much noise,” Edward chastised. He did something you weren’t in the least bit expecting. Pulling out his gun, he aimed right at you and shot in your direction. It was enough to startle you and make you lose your balance as you grabbed onto the branch for dear life. You could tell in his aim that he intentionally missed you, of course, but that didn’t stop your heart from beating like wild. “You’re panting like a wounded animal. You put too much weight into your climbing, so you give yourself away before you’re halfway up the bloody tree.”

“What do you purpose I do?” you shouted to him before releasing the branch and falling to your feet.

“Calm your breathing,” Edward instructed. “That’s a start. If you must use trees to your advantage, do so when there’s enough sound to silence your movements, and if there isn’t to do so: keep moving! Do not stay in one spot for too long or you risk being seen.” He motioned with his gun before putting it away. “Again!”

Yet again, you took to the bushes surrounding the area when he turned his back to you. Staying low to the ground—upon your stomach—you waited for him to start his idle walking. All was quiet this time, and you silenced yourself as he suggested. He wandered about the area with his cutlass moving in a slight up and down motion. He was so casual and waiting for the perfect moment for you to screw up again, no doubt. When he got closer and closer to where you were positioned, you covered your mouth in worry he had actually seen or heard you somehow.

You felt the top part of his cutlass just graze your head as he used it to try and frighten you out of hiding, perhaps. Making sure to ignore every part of your body that wanted to get up and attack right there, you waited for Edward to move a bit closer before quickly moving the flat part of your sword to trip him up and over himself. You put all your strength into that, and it seemed to be enough to make him actually trip for one so heavy. It appeared it was easy to topple anybody if you caught them off guard well enough.

With the satisfying ‘oof’ that Edward made your signal to get on top of him, you did so without a second thought. Your body resting upon his back, you kept your sword at the ready and teasingly pressed the blade near his throat. “How was that, Captain?” you asked, cockiness on every word.

Edward didn’t respond. He took a moment to laugh, but upon doing so, he turned to look at you best he could over his shoulder. “Not bad on the third try,” he chuckled. “Now, get the hell off of me.”

You laughed at his joking demand at you, doing as he asked before helping him to his feet. “So?” you asked, waiting for some sort of praise beyond a snarky remark. “What did you think? Did I prove myself a bit more?”

Wiping his mouth with his hand, he nodded—surprisingly, without hesitation. “Aye,” he answered, moving his palms to his hips. “You’re far from perfect, but you have come a long way.” Hand to your shoulder, he gave that lopsided smile of his. “I’m proud of you.”

You hoped that your blush wasn’t showing as you sheathed your sword that he had gifted you after so many months of training together. “I doubt I’ll ever be as good as you, Captain Kenway, but…it’s a start, aye?”

He stifled a laugh and nodded. “That it is, (Y/N).” Sheathing his own swords, he motioned back towards Havana. “Come on, then. I am sure there’s a drink with both our names on it as well as a warm bed back at the Jackdaw.”

The look in his eyes made you roll your own as you followed him back to civilization. “Don’t even think about it, Kenway…I hardly have the energy for you tonight.”


	4. Captured!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was a request from a lovely anon who wanted to see the reader captured, so I did. ;)

You had managed to keep on top of your training for some time yet. It was hard…grueling, you could say, and Edward was relentless. He wasn’t going to hold back like he promised and even cut and bruised you from some of his advances. At first, you complained, but he was quick to remind you—yet again—that the Templars would do far worse if they managed to catch you. You tried to keep in mind that he was only doing this because he feared losing you, but upon each strike of his sword and each hit of his fists, it almost was removed from your mind and your heart.

He had connected with the right side of your mouth when you managed to parry one of his attacks. You weren’t quick enough to block or dodge it, so his knuckles smacked right against your mouth. It nearly dropped you to your side, but you caught yourself, lowered your sword, and put your hand to the right side of your face.

Blood.

You’d recognize the taste easily by now. One of these days he was going to knock your teeth loose. “You hit pretty damn hard!” you grumbled, spitting out the blood eagerly to be rid of the taste. His mouth about to open to counter, you raised your sword hand and gestured towards him. “Yeah, yeah, the Templars will hit me harder. I get it.”

“Then why do you keep saying shite like that when you know what my response will be, lass?” Edward asked, sounding disappointed in your words. He sheathed his sword and moved closer towards you but kept his guard up. “You better not blindside me, or I promise you that you’ll regret it.”

He had caught onto your little tricks to try and lower his guard, and, after awhile, he started teaching you a lesson when it came to such attacks that wouldn’t work elsewhere other than in his presence. You stilled your blade and your desire to at least smack him back as revenge. As he got closer, he examined the damage he had done, shrugging his shoulders as if it were nothing. “It’ll bruise. I am sure you will live.”

You jerked your head from his hands, as you weren’t appreciative of his tone—a tone that was very uncaring in what he had just done. He was being a downright prick lately whenever it came to him actually harming you and cared little about the injuries and cuts he had inflicted upon your body. Was his drive to keep you safe the main thing that drove this…this madness? “Piss off,” you grumbled angrily, wiping your mouth as you could still taste and feel blood dribbling from your lips.

Edward sighed with a shake of his head. “Do you really think I want this?” he asked with a raise of his brow just under his hood. “Honestly, lass, I could have damn well killed you by now if I so desired, and I am weak in the bloody heart just imagining what a Templar could and would do to you!”

You stopped in your tracks, looking to him as you waited for a reason that would make you despise his actions as of late less than usual.

He pointed at nothing in particular and continued. “I am not the best there is out there!” His tone was angry and thunderous to the point it startled a bit of the birds nearby from their perching places. “There are enemies out there more crafty and cunning than I am, and you know if I can manage to land you flat on your arse with a blade to your neck, there are others out there just waiting to **_SEVER IT!_** ”

You flinched at his raised tone upon the last few words, but anger boiled through you at such an incredible and blinding speed that you reacted without thinking, and you pushed him back harshly with your palms on his chest. Not that it mattered as it didn’t faze him much and, like always, he was able to catch himself from your assault. “ ** _FUCK YOU!_** ” you screamed back, hating that tears were rimming your eyes at this point as you always felt your weakest when this happened.

But…he wasn’t helping. He was suppose to give you courage and support, and all Edward Kenway seemed to be good at doing was instilling fear in you to the point you felt like you were being suffocated. Your head had never felt more underwater than it did whenever you were around him as of late, and it seemed Captain Kenway would just idly stand by and allow you to drown.

“You plucked me from my job back home, Captain Kenway,” you began, venomously, “all for what—to just kick the piss out of me and laugh at me while I struggle!” Your voice was shaken and your throat dry. It hurt so much just trying to speak as it felt like knives raking down your esophagus as you swallowed. “How am I to get better if my damn teacher just finds sick enjoyment in my misery!” Your words were a trembling mess equal to your poise, but you were fed up at this point.

“You made me do this,” Edward hissed through his teeth, inching closer to you with this chilling look in his blue eyes. “And if you would stop feeling sorry for yourself for one minute—!”

“Come off it!” you bellowed, your hand gripping your sword tightly to the point your fingers were turning red and your palm nearly blistering as it rubbed to and fro against the callus hilt. “You brought this upon yourself, Kenway!” you chastised, pointing at him like he was the guilty one. “You could have left me to my job back at the tavern! You damn well knew this was going to happen!”

Edward opened his mouth to speak in his defense, but you couldn’t take it any longer and turned away from him to try and recollect yourself away from his presence. You could suffer such treatment no more. Having to stomach another unwelcome word of his was something you’d rather be without for awhile. You heard him shouting your name as you pushed back the undergrowth, but you ignored him as you headed onwards towards Kingston’s city limits.

Normally the Jackdaw would be the place to escape to, but you just couldn’t. It was not as welcoming as it once was, so you took yourself to the local tavern to try and drown out your sorrows with a drink or two. Never had you fashioned yourself someone to drink till they were unable to see straight, but, right now, not thinking clearly was welcoming. Unfortunately for you…you didn’t think of who might be watching and plotting behind your back.

 

 

You were still full of misery by the time night had graced the world. Your head was spinning a bit from the three drinks you had, but you were still conscious and knew what was going on around you. You were semi-aware, I guess one might say. Getting piss drunk wasn’t your thing…hell, drinking all together was hardly a thought that crossed your mind, but it was the only medication you could prescribe yourself when it came to the Captain of the Jackdaw.

 _I have to go back sometime_ , you thought to yourself as you looked at the bottom of your empty mug. It was either head back to the Jackdaw or see if you had any money to afford a room, and you just wasted a good bit of that coin on drinks.

Tugging at your coin purse in a sloppy manner, you spilled a few of them on the wooden floor of the tavern. “God dammit,” you slurred slightly, getting to your hands and knees to work on getting them back in your possession.

Suddenly, pain struck your hand and rocketed up your arm.

You hissed in displeasure when you saw a leather boot keeping you firmly where you knelt upon the floor and your fingers remained unpleasantly curled about the money you were groping for just under this person’s foot. It was impossible to move yourself free. You were exhausted from the day, emotionally drained from Edward earlier, and now the liquor had you in its sweet grasp. “Sh-Shit…” you whispered, your eyes slowly traveling up your adversary’s form. Your eyes only had to see that cross upon his sash to realize who and what he was.

A Templar. Great…just great…

You began to panic, especially, when he came accompanied by two other Templar lackeys. All those horror stories were starting to erupt like a mad fire inside of your gut and you began to jerk your arm in a desperate attempt to get free with or without your money. “L-Let me go!” you demanded, trying to sound intimidating, but your fear no doubt showed, as this Templar, who had you, smirked at you from under his wide brimmed hat he wore.

“And what have we here?” he questioned, removing his boot finally, but that second you had to spare was not enough for you to react. Your reflexes were garbage no thanks to the alcohol. His hand was swift to pick up where his foot left off, and you were grabbed tightly by the collar of your shirt and brought to your feet.

Hands to his to try and loosen the grasp and prevent him from strangling you just by your clothes, you hissed in dismay while trying to appear innocent. “I’ve done nothing to you!” You had never seen this man before…maybe he wouldn’t know your association with the assassin pirate.

“Oh?” the man with the brown mustache asked curiously as his grip tightened all the more on the neckline of your shirt, pushing his thumb near your throat to make it harder for you to breathe. “It’s funny you say that since I’ve seen you about with someone I am quite familiar with.”

His tone sounded of revenge. Obviously hiding wasn’t going to do any good and the longer you let this man handle you in such a way, the worse it was going to be. You already could feel yourself slipping in and out of consciousness from lack of air, so you took that moment to grab your sword you had on you and tried to strike blindly at your attacker.

Edward wasn’t joking when he said you would have a worse time on the battlefield if given the chance. Just as the captain always did, this Templar reacted swiftly and with precision. Instead of just grabbing your sword and preventing you from using it, he freed one of his hands from your shirt fabric and hit your wrist with his fingers at such an angle that it made you scream in agony as it caused a pain you never thought you’d feel before.

“I could crush your wrist, little girl,” hissed the nameless Templar. “Don’t tempt me!”

You could hear people, at the point, scurrying quickly for the exit of the tavern when the other Templars were demanding people to leave the scene. The man behind the bar tried to insist it be taken elsewhere, but the Templar and his fellow goons wouldn’t allow it.

“Now, where is he?” the man asked, his face inches from your own.

His breath was so vile you almost lost your drinks upon him, but you knew that would only anger him all the more, so you swallowed back your disgust. “Who?” you asked, playing dumb.

That was a decision you would regret, as he was quick to take his sword and unsheathe it partially to smack the hilt into your stomach. Eyes wide, you lost whatever breath you had a hold of as his thumb was only relenting a little bit upon your windpipe. You gasped…struggling to breathe, but no air came, and you worried you may suffocate right then and there.

 “You know who the hell I mean! Edward Kenway!” the Templar spat, his saliva upon your face as he tried to get his demands across to you.

But you couldn’t hold out, and the inability to breathe was becoming too much. Darkness closing in all around you, you felt your strength wane all the more the longer this continued. _Edward…!_ You mentally pleaded. _Please, help…!_

 

 

The darkness was a lot more welcoming than the embrace of the cold water that was soon drenched upon you without warning. You were soaked, freezing…and bound by iron shackles about your wrists and ankles in a medium sized prison cell with nothing but years old hay to comfort you when you came to your senses. The smell was vile—like blood, piss, shit, and rotted flesh all rolled into one—and nearly made you want to vomit upon taking it in for the first time, but you held back the desire as your shackles about your hands were grabbed fiercely, and you were jerked forwards.

It all happened so fast and, being ill prepared for it, you fell forwards and landed on the hay face first. That unwelcoming smell was stronger there and made your stomach tighten. You tried not to take it in. The Templar was obviously angry at you for stumbling about as you did that he made a swift kick to your right ribs as punishment for being clumsy.

The kick was harsh and with an intention for you to feel it and to allow him to feel satisfaction in the idea that he had caused you pain. What should you do? Giving into the pain and screaming would no doubt coax him onwards if he delighted in torment, but being bold and trying to stifle your agony would probably not work in your favor either. In the end, you couldn’t resist, and the desire to scream happened in a split second of feeling that fourth, harsh heel jab into your ribs.

“Stop it, already!”

It was a voice you thought for sure was in your head. Who, in this ghastly place, would be the voice of reason to beg for you to be shown mercy?

Your body trembled from the cold water poured upon it earlier, the taste of blood upon your cut and bruised lips as you attempted to breathe only to have it hurt like hell to do so. Your right side felt like it was inflamed and as though someone was jabbing you still with an object of some sort upon every weak and weary inhale and exhale. No doubt he probably broke something, but you were keeping your hopes high that it was merely a stinging sensation that wouldn’t last.

Jerked upright again by the collar of some burlap, torn clothing you were given while you were out cold, the Templar from the tavern grabbed onto your hair and pulled your head back after getting you upon your knees to make you look upright at the other man who had spoken on your behalf.

He was a finer looking gentleman with clothes you had seen on the wealthy. If looks were deceiving, however, this man would take the cake. He seemed to give this smile that was welcoming at first, but you remembered the Templar cross, which was sewn with pride upon his attire and tried not to find solace in that gentler look and stance he held. Kneeling down to your level, he looked you in the eyes and spoke. “Forgive us, my dear, but we were curious if you would be so kind as to answer a question or two?”

His tone was horribly fake. His façade of trying to coo and cuddle you already tasted of ash in your mouth. “And?” you inquired breathlessly as the man behind you was still holding onto you in a rather unwelcoming manner. “What did you want to know…?” You wanted to know where this conversation would lead even if you had a general idea already. The Templars were always after the assassins and, with Edward Kenway one of them, he was easily a person of interest to them.

The finer looking Templar pulled a handkerchief from his pant’s pocket to keep the smells of the cell at bay as he kept it near his mouth and nose when needed. “I was told by my companion here that you were unaware of where to find this target of ours, but, you see…” you watched as he seemed to fondle the intricate embroidery of the handkerchief in idle thought. “…we know that’s a bit of a lie, as we have seen you with him time and time again.”

Maybe you were mad at Edward. Maybe, in that split second during your fight with him you were so mad you wished him death, but the idea of such a thing now quickly fled. The Templars would torture and kill him for information on the other assassins if given the chance. You were no fool to that even if their on going war was of little interest to you personally. The thought of him being in your position or, worse yet, killed and it made you feel sicker than the smell that had engulfed your senses. Your nostrils flared like an angry bull that saw red for the first time. You would not betray him. You would NOT!

The feel of his warm hand upon your cheek was hardly inviting, and you flinched when he made contact no matter how gentle it was. “Come now. I know I would make sure you got out of here just fine and back to your hometown with more than enough coin to line your pockets if you would just tell me what I need to know.”

“Keep your sweet words…for a lady who gives a shit…!” you daringly countered.

The Templar holding you was fine to strike you at that moment. His fist to your cheek, you felt him hit so hard that it caused your teeth to cut the inside of your mouth. Blood, once more, could be tasted upon your tongue, but that wasn’t all…as you spit out the coppery substance, a tooth went with it in the process. It was a lower back tooth, judging from the pain you could feel there in your mouth.

The finer man didn’t stop the brutish Templar who struck you. Not this time. In fact, when you managed to look back into his eyes, you saw they were cold and emotionless. Figures. Nothing but a snake in the grass.

When the man with the wide brimmed hat attempted to strike again, it was then that the other Templar halted him. “No, Johnston.” Slowly, he got to his feet once more. “I have other plans.”

The one named ‘Johnston’ seemed to find delight in this idea—whatever unspoken idea it was. Forced to your feet this time, his hands moved to your upper arms, and he urged you onwards and out of your cell. You were still wobbly and uncertain of yourself. The only thing that came to mind was that it would be over…hopefully soon…if death didn’t take you, maybe Edward would save you…

You hated you had to rely on him like this when the whole intention of training you was to make sure this didn’t happen, and if it did, you would at least find a way out of it. But your weapons and your gear were removed from you, and even as you traveled to this much larger room, you never encountered your salvation.

A tug at your clothes was enough to bring you back to yourself as you realized they were forcing you to undress. When you tried to move away out of reflex, Johnston was quick to grab your hair and pull you back to where you were standing previously. You screamed in pain and denied yourself from trying that again.

“Stay put!” Johnston demanded through his clenched teeth as he forced you to your knees in the center of this room stained with old blood.

The wooden floor was rough against your knees, and perhaps digging them into the boards wasn’t the best thing to do, but it was either do that or claw at your palms in anticipation as the other Templar, who remained nameless for you, had his back turned to you as he was eyeballing a few torture items upon the wooden bench at his disposal.

“Ah, here. This will do.” He was so casual about his selection that you’d think he was merely picking out something to wear for the day. When he turned back to great you, he had a whip in his possession that he stroked like he would the head of a child he was most proud of. The sight made your body tense, but the harsh grip of Johnston reminded you that trying to retreat would force another counter you couldn’t protect against. Your eyes locked with his as you watched the Templar inch closer and closer to you with his torture device of choice resting in his hands. He, yet again, knelt before you on one knee and took the bundled cord tapping it gently upon your bruised cheek.

You flinched since it was still throbbing from the strike earlier, and your mouth was still bleeding, but you gave up the idea of trying to fight back the blood (letting it drain from your pursed lips).

“Now, let’s try this again,” he insisted, still carrying that same gentle and caring mask from earlier. “Tell me everything you know about Edward Kenway, and I promise I won’t use this.”

There was that imagery again of Edward being tortured, and you retaliated for the Templar placing it there. Gathering up what saliva you could, you spit angrily in his face, marring it with your blood as well in the process. Johnston didn’t retaliate, but perhaps the reason he didn’t was because of what was to come for you. You didn’t care at this point. Honestly, as upsetting as it was…you had to accept that death was your only option now unless you wanted this to go on for days, or, worse, you were to reveal Edward’s known routes as well as the location of the other assassins to gain freedom. But, what kind of freedom would that be? You would have sold out the man who mattered the most to you, and you’d have angry assassins out for blood as well.

You had to accept the cold embrace of death even if it meant testing the will of these Templars to make it come.

The nameless Templar flinched from the impact of your blood stained saliva. His eyes closed for a moment, he sighed and retrieved that handkerchief he had prior to dab away the crimson mark you gave him. “Most unfortunate,” he sighed, as if losing some meager business deal. The stained fabric pocketed away, the man rose to his feet and let the whip’s length fall away to the floor before moving behind you.

Waiting was the most unwelcoming torture they could give you. All was quiet, though you could hear the whip swinging back and forth casually behind you as it cut through the wind ever so slightly. Then, it made impact.

**_CRACK!_ **

You felt it…it was like someone ripping the flesh off of your back in one horrible swipe. Your hands clenched tightly to the point your nails started to cut your own skin. Back stiffened, you let out a bone chilling scream that echoed off the blood stained walls when you felt another come shortly after….then another and another. He was fast and would not relent.

It was endless. For several minutes (which felt like hours, mind you), this went onwards, and it got so bad you could feel the blood dripping down your back and even staining your palms from your nails slicing at your own skin to try and redirect the pain from your backside to elsewhere. You didn’t have the energy anymore after the twentieth or so strike. Falling face forward, you landed upon your other cheek with a whine of misery. “Just…kill…me…”

If this was what torture was to be like, you had enough of being their little play toy and wanted it to end.

But the joke was obviously on you as you heard the two laughing at your pleading. “Oh, darling,” came the voice of the nameless Templar, “why would we want you to get off easy for not telling us what we need to know?” His voice was labored from all the effort he put into tearing your back apart with his precious trinket. “Throw her in the cell. I don’t care if maggots lay eggs in her wounds. Leave them undressed for now.”

Johnston’s harsh grip came again upon your shoulders, and you were forced to stand upright no matter how much it hurt to do now. The air assaulting your open wounds was almost more than you could stand, but you demanded yourself not to cry. Crying would be the most embarrassing thing you could do at this point of your captivity.

Body harshly thrown upon the hay, you never thought you would find the enclosure so welcoming. You were still very much without your clothing….you were cold, naked, and now bleeding horribly from the injuries from your captors as well as the ones you yourself created. If your mouth, ribs, and back weren’t throbbing so horribly, you’d think just closing your eyes would be enough to make you believe this was all but a dream…but the pain was too real a reminder to say otherwise.

 

\--

 

This constant routine of being whipped, beaten and even being starved went on for a week. You figured, at this point, Edward Kenway wasn’t going to rescue you. During all of the beatings, the lashing, the nights in the cell with little to no food almost drove you to hate him…resent him for not at least trying.

You knew you weren’t exactly right about Kingston where you both last exchanged verbal blows—what you figured out was that you were at a fortress just west of it, but the name escaped you. You were starting to become delirious from the mistreatment you continued to undergo from sun up to sun down. It hurt like hell to breathe still; even chewing old meat that they gave you was hardly a thought that crossed your mind as swallowing was equally painful as was chewing. Your mouth was so bruised and blooded that you were amazed you even still had most your teeth from how many times Johnston took pride in smacking you around when you got smart with him. The smell of the holding cell was no longer as vile as it once was when you first arrived. If anything, you had adjusted to it over time.

As you remained in wait for the day to begin with the same routine of cold water used to rouse you, you found it oddly being withheld for awhile. There was no view to the outside world…just a single, circular holding area for you to look about in, but it felt as though about that time Johnston and, the once nameless Templar you found to be called Herald, were usually there to start torturing and taunting you.

No one came.

Sighing in pain, you closed your eyes with a furrow of your brow. Perhaps they had other things to do today, and you would get your salvation in being alone for a single moment to die. You knew it was coming. Everything felt numb…even trying to move your fingers was a challenge. You were so skinny that you almost were nothing but bones covered in a bag of skin. Not much longer would you be able to hold on.

Rumbling. Quaking. You felt the room shaking a bit, making you open your eyes once more to the vibrations happening around you to witness bits of debris fall from the ceiling. Was the fortress crumbling? Never in your life had you felt such a lack of desire to care about the idea that you might be going under with this very building. “Fuck it…all…” you murmured wearily, your sight hazy and darkening as you closed your eyes once more to just let whatever happen, happen.

“(Y/N)?”

You heard your name…distantly at first, like it was a dream, and then the more you focused on it, the more you realized it was actually coming from someone in front of you. But you were tired…so damn tired… _Just let me die in peace_ , you thought to yourself.

“(Y/N)!”

It was demanding this time, and you felt your battered and bruised body move slightly under someone’s touch. The pain was like an iron maiden’s needles piercing you upon the contraption closing. Opening your eyes with a wheeze of an inhale, you looked to who was shaking you and was more than relieved and shocked to find him there with his eyes looking you up and down nervously.

“E-Edward…?” tears stung your eyes at realizing he was actually there before you. He had actually come for you?

“Bloody hell…what did they do to you!” Edward asked, so eager to know he didn’t take into account that you were in severe pain. His hand was so tight upon your bruised shoulder that you let out a dehydrated and almost whimper of a cry to let him know he shouldn’t do such a thing. “I’m sorry!” he quickly apologized, removing his hand at once.

Through your hazy sight, you watched as he looked you over in a bit of concern. “You came…for me…”

Edward shot you a sarcastic yet relieved look that you would even speak to him, it seemed. “Of course I did,” he scoffed, as if offended you would think he wouldn’t. “I had one hell of a time tracking you down, but never mind that! I have to get you out of here!” His fingers flexed in uncertainty. You knew why he hesitated. Just moving you would be torture in itself. Even if he held you, your back was still so scarred and blooded beyond recognition from yesterday’s whipping and the days before that it would burn and sting like walking through the pits of hell. He moved his hands towards you, recoiled slightly, and then moved them towards you again. Eventually, he posed one arm behind your back and tried to scoop you up from under the nook of your legs with the other.

The pain shot through you without mercy this time, and you did the same, pathetic dry scream from earlier. “I know; I know,” he insisted through his clenched teeth as he slowly rose you up off of the ground. “I have to do this, or you’re going to die here!”

Your head resting against his chest, you tried to ignore the crippling sensation that was taking you over from every movement he made. He was in such a rush to get out of the fortress that his harsh motions caused yours to jerk and move about unpleasantly in his embrace. “St-Stop! Please…for the love of…GOD…!” you pleaded, hating that Edward was causing you even more pain.

He refused and shushed you tenderly in understanding. The firing of canons and muskets and the clashing of swords could be heard when you reached the cold embrace of the night air beyond the fortress. The Jackdaw crew was in a vengeful fight with the soldiers and Templars that dared to stand against them. Edward ignored the fight and made his hasty retreat to the Jackdaw and his captain’s quarters.

You could hardly stand to be placed on your back, and your distressing scream was enough to make him move you onto your left side to see the damage they had done. “Jesus…” he whispered—his tone sounding of disgust and disbelief.

Given the position you were in and how tired you were, you couldn’t see what he was doing, but you could tell from sound he had put one of his hands to his face to muffle the obvious shock mixed with sadness that he was so late in rescuing you. Hearing him sad and, perhaps, crying was so foreign…you never saw or heard Edward Kenway cry.

“Don’t…” you managed to plea in a meager whisper.

Before he could even respond, the door to the captain’s quarters flew open with a harsh and meaningful kick. You knew it couldn’t be good if Edward instantly took to the defense with the sound of his cutlass being drawn.

“So you did manage to find us, eh?”

That voice…it was Johnston…Your fingers wearily clenched the covers beneath you. You didn’t want to go back…if it meant taking your own life, you would gladly do so than go back to being constantly tortured or having to go another day without Edward.

“You…you tortured and starved a defenseless woman?” Edward was livid. You had never heard that sort of inner rage before when he spoke. Turning over slightly, you saw Johnston smirking at Edward’s tearful anger. “Have you no bloody **_HONOR?_** ”

“I would hardly call her defenseless,” the Templar insisted in his defense.

Apparently that was all that needed to be said for Edward to attack with an angry roar as his sword clashed with the Templar’s. The room they were in was too small for him to really get the best opportunity to wound or even kill Johnston, it seemed, so he kicked his opponent out onto the deck where the battle continued beyond your sight.

The battle was over so quick that it was almost unnerving for some reason. You knew Edward was the victor given his choice words shouted to his foe before ordering the Jackdaw crew back onboard. He was a skilled man, or, perhaps, he was at his most precise and deadly when you pushed him over the edge and threatened those closest to him. He didn’t even bother to sheath his sword when he came back into the room. Instead, he tossed it off to the side and let it clank upon the floorboards before he would dare to come over and try to get you to look at him.

You were tired, and, admittedly, all you wanted to do was sleep now that you knew you were safe. “I am sorry, (Y/N)…I am so, damn sorry…I can’t believe I did this to you….!”

He was crying again, and to try and keep the image away from you, you closed your eyes. “You…didn’t…”

Maybe he tried to rebuttal his case, but at that moment, you passed out and welcomed the warm embrace of the darkness.

 

\--

 

For what a week of beatings and torture did, it took months for you to work on getting better. Sadly, you were wounded so horribly on the right side of your face that you couldn’t hear as well out your right ear and your sight was a bit damaged on that side as well. Once a doctor helped you with your broken ribcage and wounded jaw, you found yourself able to eat food that wasn’t potatoes Edward had mashed up or whatever soup his chef was able to make (which was usually lacking in taste). If you had to eat those again after six weeks of doing so, you would have probably gotten ill.

Your back was scarred beyond all recognition from what Edward had explained to you as you couldn’t see it yourself without the aid of a mirror. Scars were layered upon scars, and while you tried to care little for body image, you couldn’t deny that it upset you that you were so disfigured now.

“How does it look?” you asked Edward when he removed your bandages to get a better look at the scarring one afternoon.

 He didn’t answer right away as he judged the damaged silently. “It looks like you’ve completely scarred now, so we can take these off, I suppose.”

You sighed, moving your body weight about to allow him to do such a thing. “I am glad you managed to kill the lot of them…Now I have to deal with their ever lasting marks upon me.”

“We killed all but one,” he reminded you. “I couldn’t find the one you called Herald, and his body was not accounted for by any of the lads that made it back. Besides, I’ll take you being scarred than the thought of your dead body finding rest in some graveyard any day.”

You wished you could agree, but you felt so damaged now. Maybe it was to make you feel better about it, but you felt the captain kiss your back. You caught your laugh in your throat when you felt his beard tickle your spine. “That tickles, thank you,” you murmured from where you were resting your head upon the pillow.

He didn’t apologize. Captain Kenway merely smirked at your words as he sat back in the chair he had pulled up beside his bed he shared with you in order to make sure you healed as intended. His smile seemed to fade as quickly as it came, however. Hands folded between his parted legs, he fidgeted with a somber sigh. “I am sorry I didn’t find you in time,” he apologized, as he never had the chance to really talk to you about it before with you recovering.

“Edward…”

The Captain raised his hand to stop you from groaning at him. “I was mad…frustrated at what you said to me,” he admitted between the two of you. “I didn’t want anything like this to happen to you, and I was the one to force you into the breast of it.” He pulled his thumbs apart from one another before pressing them back together with a shake of his head. “I came back to the Jackdaw, stewing in my own anger that I didn’t realize how late it was that day.” Edward scrunched up his nose and shrugged his shoulders. “I just assumed you would come back to me when you felt you could stomach me.”

You merely listened, as you weren’t sure what to say when he was saying he was sorry. It was rare to hear such a thing from the proud captain.

He reclined back in the chair and exhaled through his nostrils as talking about it all was still a challenge without it stirring up his emotions, it seemed. “I waited…and waited…when I woke up sometime in the middle of the night without you there on the Jackdaw, I panicked and went back to Kingston to find you.” He chewed on his lower lip before continuing. “Found the tavern, and I asked around about you. The man that owned the place didn’t want to talk out of fright, so I bribed him, and he told me you were taken away by Templars.”

Edward cleared his throat to perhaps keep his shaky tone at bay. “I asked around about these men by their description and nobody knew them. Days passed, and I was starting to panic. I got drunk, which was a bloody foolish thing for me to do.” He massaged his forehead in regret of that as it didn’t make finding you that much faster, probably. “Then I managed to catch myself a Templar who knew exactly who I was describing and told me where to find them after I threatened to gut him before doing so. Found the fortress, attacked it, and found you in such horrible conditions that I worried I was too late.”

He had been avoiding your gaze for most of the story, and it was then he looked to you with his eyes shining in tears. “I thought I lost you.” Edward’s weak attempt to laugh at the thought was obvious when he spoke. “You were almost a blooded corpse lying in that cell. I thought…I lost you…”

“Edward…please…” you began again, as you didn’t want him to continue. It was painful to see him this upset.

“You think I don’t give a shit about you, lass?” Edward asked, his heart breaking when he asked such a question to you. Rolling his tongue over his cracked lips, he fixed his posture in the chair a bit. “Do you think I get some sort of enjoyment out of laying a hand on you for when you fuck up in training?”

You didn’t answer. Right now, you felt too ashamed to.

Edward motioned at nothing in particular as he continued. “That…what just happened…that could happen again at anytime. If you want me to train you, I have to be mean and I have to be forceful, or you will have some rubbish luck, that’s for sure, if I let you free in this world with a sword and a pistol to aid you when I am not there. I have to find some means to motivate you and fear seemed the only good motivation.”

“That’s not what motivated me to begin with,” you interjected eagerly with a crease of your brow. “I…I overheard you talking to Adéwalé one night, and I know what drives you to do what you do, but…it’s just nice to see it…or hear it…or feel it…I want to know in those ways that you do this because you actually care about me.”

Seemed the captain was speechless when you mentioned your eavesdropping awhile ago. His thumbs began to rapidly drum against one another as he had this vacant expression to accompany his actions. You could only hope he wasn’t angry at that. Edward finally opened his mouth to speak, but he stalled as he thought wisely on his words. He sighed nasally in defeat, it seemed. “(Y/N), I don’t just do the stuff I do because I care about you,” the Jackdaw Captain insisted. He paused, as if leading you to believe he was taking back everything he just said. “I do it because I love you.”

It felt like he had gone years without saying those words, and hearing him say them finally made your heart beat wildly against the covers beneath you. “That’s it,” you whispered, hoping your blush wasn’t obvious in the dim lighting of the room. “That’s all I need to hear and to know to give me motivation.”

“Then I will say it to you as often as you need me to,” Edward insisted, inching closer to the bedside. “I am not going to let this happen to you again, and if it does…so help me…I will rip the blokes apart.” To try and sooth your mind of past regret and sorrow, he kissed your forehead while giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.


	5. End of the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Imagine that Edward Kenway and you get caught and sent to prison together. Consider this the finale. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to check on artwork/ headcanons/ RP snippets/ love letters/ and see if requests are open, please check my tumblr: The Blind Geisha Teahouse: http://blindgeishateahouse.tumblr.com/

The rocking of the Jackdaw was making you feel nauseated for once in your life as you tried to get a moment of sleep one afternoon. You had such an early schedule day in and day out, and for whatever reason, you could feel it wearing on you. It used to never affect you before…you had easily trained your body to get up and be alert before the sun even made its way over the horizon, so what was so different lately?

You pushed it off as nothing important. Laziness was the last thing you wanted to blame, because you had no reason to be lethargic when you were a crewmember of the Jackdaw. Sickness was something you wanted to rule out all together, but with how ill the moving of the ship was making you, you were beginning to wonder if you were coming down with something. Too worried to tell Edward, you kept it yourself until you both found yourselves training on some off the map island in your travels.

Edward felt faster, and, when you tried to tail him through the woods, you felt heavier and almost incapable of keeping up. Something had to be wrong…but you prayed to God it wasn’t some life threatening illness as you found yourself at Edward’s mercy when he came up behind you with his hidden blade to your throat as punishment for being so out of it.

“What is wrong, lass?” Edward asked, retracting the weapon and letting you go free. “You run about like you have stones tied to your ankles.” It was then he took notice you were panting and raised a brow at such a sight. “Winded even? You’re getting sluggish,” he chuckled, removing his cutlass from its sheath.

“I am not,” you grumbled, feeling a bit irritable at his choice of words. He was always good at finding the right thing to say or do to make you angry, so this wasn’t new. “I’ve just been feeling…” you paused to think of the right words. “…out of sorts.”

Edward’s brow creased in a moment of concern. “Ill, are you?” When you didn’t respond, he pointed his weapon at you eagerly. “If you’re sick, you’re not going to be getting my crew sick too, love. You need to go see someone.”

“I am not sick,” you insisted in your defense, as he was acting like you had the plague.

The captain laughed, keeping his blue eyes on you as he did so. “Ah, so vomiting at odd hours of the day and night lately doesn’t mean you’re ill?” When you looked at him in confusion, as you thought for sure you hid that well enough, he smirked. “If you do that again over my ship, by the way, I will make you regret it.”

With yourself caught, you slapped your hands in defeat at your sides. “What would you have me do then? I can vomit on you if you like?” you mused with a scoff.

He motioned for you to follow him as he figured training could wait, as he sheathed his sword. “I will really make you suffer if you did that to me, lass,” he said honestly (though, he was laughing when he said such a thing, so it was light-hearted at best). “A wastebasket is called that for a reason… ** _use_** it! I won’t have your damn vomit painting my ship.”

“Of course; of course,” you sighed with a playful roll of your eyes. “Can’t have your precious ship in bad condition.”

Edward whacked your chest with the back of his hand as a means to quiet you, but it was so sudden that it hurt worse than normal (though you did your best not to show it). “We’ll be heading back to Havana soon. Get yourself looked at, or so help me, you’re not coming back on the Jackdaw.”

“So you would have me stranded in Havana?” You asked, a bit offended he would think to do such a thing to you

“No, I just won’t let you back on the Jackdaw even if that means I have to be at port for several days,” he reminded you, turning on his heels—his palm upon your chest to stop you dead in your tracks within the welcoming shade of the surrounding woods you found yourselves in. “And I will make sure that happens if I have to force you to, love. I won’t be a happy man if you make me do this.” His tone was serious as was his piercing gaze from under his hood. You knew not to test him when it came to the livelihood of his crew, so you merely nodded for now.

Back upon the Jackdaw, you found yourself in the captain’s quarters and staring at the ceiling at nothing in particular. You were hoping by just staying focused on one thing would make the ships movements a bit more bearable, but that was a feeble attempt at preventing yourself from heaving. At least you managed to get to the wastebasket in time, so there was that bit of good news.

When ported at Havana, Edward departed from the Jackdaw with you, but just as you were about to leave, he grabbed your wrist. “Remember, lass,” he began, pointing at you intently, “go see someone, or I am not allowing you back on.”

You jerked your hand back with a roll of your eyes. Yes, he was your better, but you still saw him as that rowdy Jackdaw Captain that you used to serve back in your bartending days and, now, occasionally slept with. “I know,” you whispered back to him in a hushed tone. “And where will you be?”

“Getting supplies and allowing the cook to get what he needs for future meals,” Edward explained, moving his hood back up and over his head before motioning to you once more. “Remember: stay in plain sight, and don’t draw attention to yourself. Danger is still very much everywhere, love.”

You were aware, and the last thing you wanted was to end up being tortured again after the last lovely run in you had about a year or so ago from today. Those scars were still a reminder of it. Even if you couldn’t see them, you knew they were there all the same and, even at times, it felt like your back ached from just phantom pains of the memory.

Doctors were a bit difficult to find. Yes, people could sell medicine, but that didn’t mean they knew how to check up on you and give you a good or bad bill of health. After asking around for one, you were able to find a doctor east of the docks and went to his house with a knock upon his front door that looked aged from time. The paint was pealing off of the off-white door as well as the windowsills you could see, but you knew Havana weather wasn’t exactly the best for anything manmade to last.

As the door opened after a moment of silence, you sighed your relief. “Lucas Henwood…?” you questioned, as you were sure that was his name given what a man told you in broken English not too long ago.

The man was about in his 30s, probably, but it was so hard to tell. He looked like every other man you had seen about town. Nothing too special in terms of clothing choices, but he sported a brown, thick beard with unkempt, shoulder length brown hair. “Yes?” he asked curiously as he felt the need to stay in the shade that his home had to offer. “How can I help you, Miss?”

“I was told you are a healer, of sorts,” you responded, a bit nervous as you fidgeted there before this man you were guided to. “I was wondering if you’d be fine to hear me out…?”

He looked at you as if to decide his answer. Reaching for something out of view, he put on his glasses he soon had in his hands and studied you better with his hand to your chin to make you look up at him. He didn’t say anything right away, but his eyes surveyed the land before motioning for you to come inside. “Come in,” he insisted in a very business like tone, stepping out of your way to allow you into his home.

You didn’t waste time doing so. Standing out in the open had you feeling anxious that some Templar or guard may very well be nearby, and you didn’t want to risk the idea of being captured and sick. With the door closing behind you, Lucas locked it behind you…very unsettling way for this to begin. Did you just walk into some sort of trap?

“I know you,” Lucas said very matter-of-factly. “You are quite bold to be out and about without the Jackdaw Captain around.”

Hearing such a phrase made you think it was a threat, and so, you instinctively grabbed your gun in your shaky hand. The doctor was, oddly enough, unfazed by your actions. He merely raised his hands to you as if to surrender.

“Relax, (Y/N),” the doctor insisted. “Put the bloody gun away, for God’s sake. I am not an armed man,” he reminded you.

You tried to settle down, but you were not going to be captured again. Your finger off of the trigger, you slowly lowered the gun in your possession, but still kept it from its holster. “Then why do you lock me in here?”

“Because there are guards about, my dear, and if you are sick, I am sure fighting them off isn’t ideal for you or your condition,” Lucas explained in his defense before gesturing to himself. “I am a doctor. A doctor’s job is not to judge his patients, but to help them.”

Seemed that line was enough to make you finally put the weapon away completely with an unsteady inhale. “Thank you,” you whispered between the both of you, as it was nice to meet someone neutral for a change.

“Have a seat,” said Lucas, pointing towards the old sofa furbished in green within his living room. Doing as asked, he took a seat opposite of you, legs apart and his hands clasped between them. “So, tell me—what ails you?”

You explained everything you could in regards to how sick you had been feeling lately. The vomiting was the worst of it. Seemed you couldn’t keep anything down no matter how hard you tried, yet you still felt weighted whenever you tried to keep up with your training.

“Has being at sea made you nauseous before?” Lucas probed, pushing himself up from where he was sitting to make it over to his cabinet to muddle through the medicine he had stashed there.

“No, and that’s the odd part,” you admitted with a worried look. Really, you shouldn’t be worried as, so far, Lucas seemed fine to listen to your symptoms. “It only started happening two months ago.”

“And you waited this long to ask for help?” Lucas asked with a chuckle, as if finding that to be quite bold on your part. Apparently, he didn’t find what he needed and shut the cabinet door. You watched as he started to wash his hands with a rag he had and reserve water he had in a bucket not far away. “Normally, people get something like that checked right away; especially, if you’re out at sea often and can spread a plague to your fellow crewmates.”

“Well, nobody got sick,” you pointed out with a shrug of your shoulders. “It’s only me.” You watched as Lucas continued to fumble about in his kitchen area before coming back to continue his interrogation.

“And how have you been eating?”

It was a random question. How well could one eat when out at sea and trying to escape from the law? “As good as anybody can that’s labeled a criminal.”

Lucas smiled crookedly at you saying such a thing. “What I meant was: are you eating more than usual?” He took his seat once more and continued studying you from where he was sitting. “I know ships have a chef of some sort, so do you pilfer food or do you buy more when at port?”

“Are you insinuating I am a thief and would steal from under Edward’s nose?” you asked, a bit offended by that.

The doctor raised his hands again. “You know it’s only me, and anything you tell me is certainly not going to reach the Captain’s ears.”

Honestly, Edward would scold you and punish you for taking food if he ever found out. With the veil of secrecy upon you, your shoulders faltered, and you looked down at your feet like some child who was caught in a fib. “Yes, I did,” you almost whispered, but were quick to recover. “But I was doing it, because I was unable to keep anything down! Can you blame me?”

Lucas chuckled, his thumbs pressing together in thought. “That’s not why you’re doing it.” He was quiet for a spell before he gave you his diagnosis: “You’re pregnant.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate on that conclusion. More than anything, you wanted to deny it. A baby…and how would you be able to have one let alone take care of it out at sea? You knew who the father was—it would be the only man you were lying in bed with day in and day out. “N-No, that can’t be right,” you said nervously.

The doctor shrugged his brow. “Gain in appetite, you said earlier your breasts were hurting, weighted feeling, vomiting, no sign of vaginal blood in the past two months, and lethargy,” he reminded you as he leaned forwards in his chair. “Those are all very telling signs of pregnancy, my dear.” Lucas tilted his head at you curiously. “Didn’t your mother tell you such signs to be leery of?”

“Well, yes, but that was years ago, and I’ve not spoken to her in sometime yet,” you admitted sheepishly. You were too scared to really talk to your family now…they no doubt knew you were part of the Jackdaw crew. Admittedly, you felt ashamed of where your life had taken you now that you thought about your family life and this child you were said to be pregnant with.

Getting back to his feet, Lucas raised his hand to you. “I might have something for your nausea. Let me look again since I know what the problem is.”

You wanted to cry…not from happiness, but from fear. What now? Your head bowed and buried in your hands, you resisted the urge all the same. What would Edward think of this? “How am I going to tell him?” you mumbled aloud.

“Tell Captain Kenway?” Lucas guessed as he found what he was looking for and came back over to you. “You’ll have to.” He passed the medicine to you that he had in his possession, allowing you to look it over. “Eventually, it’s going to become obvious the bigger that child grows. Unless you want to do what they do in the east and wrap your belly to surprise him. I don’t recommend that, by the way, as it will harm the child’s proper growth.”

You took the medicine with hesitation. “How do you know it is his anyways?” you asked with a sarcastic laugh.

“Pirates are superstitious and believe women bring bad luck,” Lucas reminded you. “There would be only one reason a pirate would keep a woman on his ship for so long.”

All you could do was nod. So this was it…you were pregnant. Looking again to the container in your hands, you asked: “What does this medicine do?”

“Should help lessen the vomiting without harming the baby,” Lucas explained, motioning towards his door. “I believe we’re done here.”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you headed onwards to the front door as asked—allowing him to unlock it for you to exit. “Thank you, Lucas, for helping me.” Even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear, he aided you all the same and a ‘thanks’ was in order.

“It was nothing,” the doctor said. “Be sure to eat better than you have, or you are going to be too weak to give birth to this child. Don’t overdo it and stay out of trouble.”

You laughed sarcastically. “That last bit might be too much to ask of someone such as me,” you whispered honestly in the doorway. “But I will do my best.”

Just as you were about to leave, Lucas stopped you by grabbing your hand. It felt urgent, causing you to stop and look at the doctor curiously. “ ** _Tell_** him, (Y/N),” he urged, as if knowing what you had planned. “A man deserves to know when a woman they love is pregnant with their child.”

You looked away from Lucas’ accusing gaze before nodding at his words. He was right…of course…but you just couldn’t do that right now. “I will in time,” you answered honestly.

“Make sure that’s not too late,” instructed the doctor before bidding you farewell and closing the door behind you.

Taking his advice to heart, you pocketed the medicine within your pants you were wearing while trying to think of some logical excuse as to why you’d been ill. You just couldn’t tell him right away you were pregnant…not right now…With the docks coming closer and closer into view, you gathered what courage you could and headed onwards towards the Jackdaw.

“So?” came Edward’s voice from behind you, making you nearly jump in fright. “Did you get a doctor to check on you?” He moved in front of you—blocking your path and crossing his arms intent to hear your answer.

“It’s nothing serious,” you said honestly, pulling out the medicine in your hands. “See? He even gave me something to help with the nausea.” Edward didn’t budge. Seemed he wasn’t satisfied with that response. “Can I get onboard now?”

Edward raised his brow, studying you closely. “What was it that he said you had?”

“Food poisoning; now, will you move?” you growled, motioning at him impatiently.

“For weeks?” Edward questioned, still not letting you pass. “That’s a bit odd.”

You grumbled at his impossible behavior. “Edward, just **_PLEASE_** …” lowering your voice, you looked at him with a pleading expression. “….you have to trust me, when I say it is not serious.”

He stood there still continuing to judge you before relenting and allowing you onwards. “Alright then,” he said in a calm, yet serious way as he escorted you back to the Jackdaw with his hand upon your back. “I trust you, lass, so you better not deceive me.”

Hearing him say such a thing weighed heavily on your already sinking heart. You were already deceiving him, but how could you tell a pirate you were pregnant with his child? Maybe the answers would come in time…? Honestly, you could only hope that was the case as the two of you set out for sea once more.

 

\--

 

The medicine did help with your anxious desire to heave almost every moment that you could. You continued to steal food from the chef just to have enough to sustain you, though Edward never found out as the cook was willing to keep a secret. More than anything, you wanted to deny you were pregnant—just assume it maybe was something you were eating that was causing you to act out of sorts, but when your clothing wasn’t fitting as properly as time passed, you knew that wasn’t the case.

“It’s going to become harder to hide this,” you whispered to yourself, as you felt relief that your constant vomiting had ceased after months of it giving you grief. However, the weight gain was not going to be so easy to dismiss; especially, with you sleeping in the same bed as him. You had to tell him…now or never…

With the door to the captain’s quarters opening, you spun around and snapped out of thought. It was only Edward, and for that, you felt relief. “Ready to go, lass?” It was that time of the morning when you both usually practiced and then went hunting for crafting materials and food items.

“Y-Yes, but I—.”

“Alright then,” he began (almost impatiently). “Let’s get going.”

“But I have something to tell you!” you finally shouted, but as Edward stopped in the doorway to listen to you, you felt that bit of nerve just drain from your body. Sighing, you waved away the thought…again…for the hundredth or so time. “Never mind.”

“Are you sure?” Edward pried, raising his brow at your sudden change in attitude. “You seemed quite eager to tell me something just a moment ago.”

“Yes, it’s nothing,” you lied, making your way towards the doors to excuse yourself and head to land with the Jackdaw Captain behind you.

You had been careful in your training. The last thing you wanted was for Edward to land a bad blow upon you. Then he would be furious…furious you allowed him to do such a thing and, quite possibly, harm his child in the process. He had been generous with the stomach shots as of late when you weren’t feeling your best, but with your nausea cleared up, his attacks at such an area could return.

But, as Edward came at you with his cutlass, you prepared yourself and returned with a harsh swipe of your own blade to deter him and try to end this session as quickly as it was to start. However, you weren’t focused, and it was making your attacks sloppy at best. You were thinking about what to say and what to do in regards to your pregnancy. _Just tell him…just DO IT…_ your mind was urging. It was then you saw it…his fist going right for your stomach.

“ ** _NO!_** ” you instinctively screamed, aiming for his hand in the process in a wild and blind attempt to protect yourself and your baby. However, try as you might to be careful with your sword, you did manage to cut his hand.

“Shit!” Edward hissed, pulling his blooded hand back to notice you wounded his wrist. “Dammit, lass! What’s wrong with you!” he exclaimed angrily, wrapping it with bandages he had on his person whenever he went hunting. “Being unfocused with a weapon is a bloody deadly thing! You know that, aye?”

“God, I am sorry; I’m sorry!” you shrieked, covering your mouth and dropping your own weapon to check on him. “I didn’t sever anything, did I! I am so sorry, Edward!” You were panicked and almost hysterical that you managed to land a hit by total accident.

“Calm down,” Edward demanded through his clenched teeth, letting the bandage deal with his injury for now. “I am sure you only cut the skin, but that was bloody fuckin’ close. You could have cut off my hand!”

“I am sorry!” you repeated, feeling awful that you almost maimed the man you cared for.

“Are you sure there’s not something you want to tell me?” Edward asked, leaning against a nearby tree to let the pain of the inflicted wound pass. “You’ve been not yourself lately.”

Looking up at him through your somber expression, you shook your head slowly. “I…I’m pregnant…” The words just sort of came out of your mouth. You couldn’t keep them locked away for much longer and this experience was proof of that.

Edward remained there against the tree. His expression was unchanging as he stared at you as if to judge if you were being serious. “Pregnant…?” he questioned again. His words weren’t happy, so that wasn’t a good sign. Laughing sarcastically, he closed his eyes before he looked up at the canopy that surrounded you both. “For how long?”

You didn’t answer. How could you tell him it had been probably months now?

“How long!” Edward yelled this time, making you flinch at how angry he looked and sounded.

“Four months!” you shouted in return, as you just wanted him to stop yelling. Why was he so mad? Was he not happy about this?

“For fuck’s sake…” Edward growled, looking upward with a shake of his head once more. His hand to his face, he hid his expression from you. “And you weren’t going to tell me?” You watched as his hand slid down to his mouth, his eyes were back upon you now. Seemed choosing your words wisely would be a good idea, but with him giving you that accusing glare, the truth just shot out of you.

“I-I am sorry! The idea was hard, Edward!” you said in your defense. “How am I going to have this child when we’re both wanted criminals! What….What am I going to do…?”

“You were supposed to fuckin’ tell me that I was going to be a father,” Edward explained, his voice low and almost threatening. Pushing himself off of the tree, he got in your face—his body imposing as he stood over you like some angered brute. “I was supposed to be able to help you through this, and you chose to lie to me from the moment you went to that doctor!”

“Edward—!”

“Get back to the Jackdaw,” he hissed, pointing to where the ship was located from your position. “If you are pregnant, I am not allowing you out here!” When you refused to move, he raised his voice once more. “That is an order! GO!”

You were hurt. Crushed might be more appropriate. He was supposed to make this easier. Of course he had every right to be angry, but couldn’t he show some sort of sympathy in the matter? Not knowing what to say, you turned away and headed back to the ship relieved that your tears could be concealed from him. You didn’t want him to have that honor in knowing he made you cry.

You found lying in the bed the most welcoming idea as of late. Since you were pregnant, you slept quite often so, even with the previous upset, it was easy to drift off peacefully. It would take Edward’s hand upon your shoulder shaking you to make you wake. Even then, you were too stubborn and upset to look at him directly—making sure your back was facing to him when you opened your eyes.

“What do you want, Kenway?” you asked in a weary and almost fed up tone.

“Won’t look at me, eh?” Edward questioned, the chair he was in squeaking under his weight as he shifted upon it. “Very well. I am sorry, (Y/N),” he apologized—something that was rare to hear from his own mouth. “It is not that I am not happy about this news. I am more frustrated than anything that you would find keeping this from me was alright.” He paused and stifled a sarcastic laugh in his throat. “The anger and fear just got out first.”

“This isn’t easy for me, you know,” you whispered, voice cracking with hurt as you spoke. “You didn’t make it any easier for me back there…”

“I know, and I am sorry,” Edward said again, showing he was being sincere. “What hurts the most is, I could easily give you and this child a life worthwhile, but how can I do that when I am the most wanted man at sea? If the Templars find out about this, they’ll track you down even at the Great Inagua Hideout, so even that is out of the question.”

He was quiet for a moment, perhaps waiting on you to say something, but what could you say? Edward was already speaking your biggest fears.

“I am taking you back home,” the Jackdaw Captain finally announced, causing you to whip around and look at him. “You’ll be safer there and able to have this child safely if you accept the King’s pardon.”

“No!” you exclaimed, nearly throwing the covers off of your body in the process. “Edward, I am not going home just to have this child with you off doing…who knows what!”

“You are going, and that is final,” Edward said sternly, as if it were another order, with his head lowered to show the idea wasn’t easy for him either.

“And what do you think this will help with, exactly?” you asked, tears threatening to cascade down your cheeks once more. Honestly, you felt like you had done enough crying for one day. “Do you think me having this child alone in Bristol will make me happier? Do you think raising it alone without this child’s father will be a life I want for myself or for my baby?” When Edward refused to look at you, you grabbed him by the face to try and force him to. “Look at me and tell me that this is what you want, because then I’ll know for damn sure you mean it!”

Your voice was cracking and the tears you tried so hard to keep at bay were staining your cheeks now. The grip upon the captain’s face was weak at best, and he could easily knock your hand away if he so desired, but you noticed he did as you asked and looked at you…stared even, as if searching for something…but he didn’t say again what he had earlier. If anything, he corrected himself.

“I never said this is what I wanted,” Edward reminded you, moving his hand to gently push yours away from his face. “I am asking this of you, because I want you both safe! I’d rather know you and our child are safe from danger than worry that something may take you both from me.” His voice started to rise again from heated anger. “If this is me being bloody fuckin’ selfish, then so be it! I am selfish!”

Shaking your head again and again, you pleaded as if you were begging for mercy. Grabbing his assassin attire, you pulled upon it saying ‘no’ several times as if to hope he would reconsider. “I would have nowhere to go!” you reminded him pitifully, resting your forehead against his chest. “All I know is living here with you…don’t take that away from me…!”

Edward didn’t respond. He was rigid before you finally felt his arm come around to hold you close with a heavy, nasally sigh.

Maybe he was about to say something, but he stalled in his words as he heard cannon fire echo beyond the walls of the Jackdaw. Hoping it was just some naval battle the Jackdaw was passing through, Adéwalé’s voice urged for Edward’s presence above deck.

“Captain! We’ve got a royal ship on our hands!” the quartermaster shouted.

“Stay here!” Edward demanded, moving himself from your embrace to hurry out of the captain’s quarters to take charge of the pirate ship.

You couldn’t argue. With the condition you were in, you couldn’t afford to go above deck and join in the battle as you used to. Now you were worried…worried you might actually have to defend yourself with a cutlass and a child underway as well if anybody managed to make it to the captain’s quarters. But Edward had always defended you and his crew well before, so why should you worry now?

The sound of guns going off and cannon fire was merely muffled by the walls surrounding you. It was foreign to not be the one to participate in the battle going on, but you just couldn’t. The men wouldn’t show mercy upon you unless they knew you were pregnant, and even then, they would still find a way to restrain you, even if it meant shooting you in the leg to cripple you.

Suddenly the fire ceased and you heard voices coming closer to the doors that acted as your salvation away from the naval battle. It wasn’t Edward’s and it wasn’t Adéwalé’s either…

You felt your heart sink when men of the British navy appeared and aimed their guns at you to keep you from reaching for any weapon that may be on your person or nearby. “(Y/N)?” one of them asked, causing you to hesitantly nod. “You and the Jackdaw crew and her captain are to come aboard our ship as we take you back to England to stand trial for your crimes!”

Edward had fallen, and with you pregnant, this was like a nightmare in the making. All you could do was nod through your obvious turmoil, which was written upon your face in tears.

 

\--

 

You were kept separate from the rest of the crew, and, when forced onto British soil again, you found yourself pulled from Edward. “Wh-What’s going on? Where are you taking me?” you demanded to know, trying to dig your heels into the ground beneath you like a stubborn, wild animal that refused to go where asked.

“You were given a proposition, (Y/N),” said one of the men escorting you through the dreary prison that you found yourself within. The walls felt as though their intention was to keep the cold and heat inwards, as if to make people suffer more and the feel of the stone made walkway was almost torture on your bear feet as things pricked and scratched at your flesh. “It is your choice on whether or not to accept it; especially, since you claim you are pregnant with child.”

The wails of the imprisoned were unsettling as you were dragged onwards to an empty cell, where they unlocked the door before removing your shackles and tossing you inward. “Then why lock me here…?” you asked weakly, not sure what was going on.

“Because, you are still a criminal by association of Edward Kenway,” the guard reminded you sternly. “However, your father has sent a large sum of money for your safe return and freedom from prison.”

Hearing that your family was behind the idea of you, possibly, getting out safe and free you widened your eyes and your hands gripped the iron bars that kept you from your escaping your confinement. “M-My father…?”

“Yes, and it will be up to you if you decide to accept this offer or not,” the guard continued. “I’ll await your answer tomorrow morning. Let me say this: you’d be a bloody fool not to take it with all things considered.” The man’s face turned to pity, it seemed. As if you were just some young lady that was drowning in some mess you didn’t deserve. “Don’t let that pirate make you die. He is not worth such a fate.”

When the guards left you to yourself, you thought about it…thought about the idea of getting out of here without so much as a worry on your mind as your freedom would be bought for, and you could go and accept a pardon by the King himself. But…Edward…it always came back to Edward…you couldn’t just leave him to rot in prison. You would leave this filth and never see him again. Would freedom really be worth it? You weren’t lying earlier when you said all you knew was him and his love.

You fell asleep moments later. Your body was still adjusting to the idea of the child inside of you. However, the sound of Edward’s voice was enough to make you wake and realize that he was being brought into your section of the prison. The guards were taunting him, and he was merely getting his say in the matter—swearing, as usual—and acting as though none of this fazed him. It was a bold front, but what would you expect from someone such as him?

Making your way hastily to the bars once more, you tried to peer into the room to hunt for him, but you couldn’t see him—not yet anyways. With him passing by your cell, you tried a lousy attempt to reach out to him. “Edward!” you shouted, grabbing his attention and making the captain try to stall with the guards.

“(Y/N)!” Edward responded back, trying to dig his heels into the ground to get a moment with you, but the guards (being two) were stronger. “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Come on, damn you!” hissed one of the men escorting Edward to his cell. “You can chat later!”

You worried he was going to be pushed further from you—another cell completely from where you were, but you found relief that he was merely going right next door to you. With a rough push to his back, you heard him land in his own cage before the lock was put into place and the guards left to continue their patrol.

“Edward?” you called quietly, worry quivering on your tone as you couldn’t very well see him, but you could hear him.

“Aye…I am here, lass,” he responded, his cell bars rattling as he was probably grabbing them. “How are you feeling? Are you alright?” he asked again.

“I am fine,” you answered, moving your back to the wall that was closest to him. “More or less…”

Edward was quiet before you heard him sigh. “I am sorry about this, love,” he apologized wholeheartedly. “I didn’t want this for you…I never did…now you’re in prison with a bloody child inside of you no less.” You heard him rattle the bars again. “Dammit all…”

Should you tell him the proposition you were given? You already learned your mistake earlier of telling Edward too late about your pregnancy, so you decided it would probably be best. “I was told my father has paid for my safety and freedom.”

“Take it!” Edward was quick to demand. “You take that deal and leave here!”

“Edward…God dammit…” you grumbled, head in your heads. “Don’t do this to me! I can’t leave you here!”

“Lass, do you not understand how bad and, not to mention, hard it will be for you to have a child in prison?” Edward asked, anger and desperation dancing on his tone as he shook the bars yet again to get his point across. “You could die in here! The child could die too for all you know!”

“You could too!” you retaliated, voice breaking again as sorrow crippled you at the thought. “Edward, I am not going to leave you here…I can’t do that…” He was quiet, allowing you to continue. “I would go home and have this child and be reminded every time I look at him or her of the man I lost.” You turned to look beside you as if he were there. “Would you ask of such a pain for me?”

Maybe he knew letting go as well wouldn’t be as simple as he assumed it would be, for the Jackdaw Captain was quiet for awhile still. You heard him shuffle about in his cell before he spoke finally—sounding defeated. “No, I wouldn’t ask that of you. But, by God, do I want you both safe…safe and far from here…”

You wiped the tears from your eyes before moving your arm through the bars to try and reach where he was in the other cell. At best, you could just rest your hand there in front of the middle of the wall divider that kept you apart. “Then we stay here and suffer together.”

It was obvious he saw your hand as, moments later, he placed his upon yours and gripped it tightly. You couldn’t hug him or hold him, but there was at least this, and that was good enough. “They won’t do anything to you, love,” Edward reminded you with a reassuring hold. “With me, they might rough me up a bit till I die.”

As if that didn’t mean you’d suffer. The idea of Edward being tortured and or beaten was a hell you couldn’t describe. “Like I said…we suffer together.”

 

\--

 

You turned down the offer to be freed from prison. As tempting as the offer was, you couldn’t leave the one you loved more than life itself. Just as he was, you were guilty of horrible crimes against the crown, and so you remained. Food was pathetic—especially for one such as you in your condition—and you started to worry you would have no energy to really birth this child when the time were to come.

“Come on! Out, you!” you heard a guard yelling one afternoon, causing you to wake up from where you were resting in your cell to see them pulling Edward from his own.

You wanted to ask what it was they were doing, but you knew it was none of your business. However, as of late, they had been dragging Edward out of his cell and beating him—torturing him—for information he had in regards to his ties with the assassins when Templars caught word he was within prison. They had bribed the guards to do their bidding, it seemed. It was daily this was starting to happen, and it made you sick inside to watch Edward come back so exhausted, beaten, and bruised. As you leaned against the bars to try and watch the commotion, you found your own cell door being unlocked, and you quickly scurried away from the entrance.

“C’mere, you,” demanded one of the guards, as he reached for you with shackles in his possession.

Not like you could escape. You were confined in this small room and at the mercy of the guard who was towering over you. “Wh-What do you want?” you asked, hoping that your pregnancy would still keep you safe.

The man didn’t answer. The bindings to your wrists and secured tightly and uncomfortably, you were forced to your feet and ushered out of your cell to follow behind Edward further down the hallway of the area you were both contained within. It felt all too reminiscing of your situation with the other Templars, who took great pride in whipping you so horribly that it scarred your back. Your heart beating wildly in your chest, you almost felt yourself relapse into a panic attack at the idea of this all happening again. However, the room you were forced into was not a room where you would be physically tortured. You were free of such treatment, and you had that baby inside of you to thank. But…it would be a place where Edward would be the one taking the hits for you both.

Forced to your knees on the cold, hard flooring, you watched as they chained Edward down like some dog that was being disobedient. “Perhaps now you will open up a bit better since the mother of your child has to sit and watch you endure this,” insisted one of the men in the room.

Edward looked to you quickly. He was fearful—fearful of what you may say or do if you witnessed what was about to happen. “Don’t say…anything…!” he demanded, his tone heavy and so weak sounding that it broke your heart.

Even just him demanding you be quiet was enough to make the guard punch Edward freely across the face. The captain recoiled at the attack, and you saw blood speckle the ground. “Stop it!” you screamed, body tensing at having to watch him go through so much.

“And you, (Y/N)?” asked the guard, turning to you curiously with a sword in his hands. “Do you know anything about the location of the assassins?” The flat part of the blade was under your chin, and you trembled at the sight of the weapon.

“I swear,” hissed Edward from where he was regaining himself from the harsh strike, “if you hurt her, you will regret it, you bloody bastard!” He was spitting, he was so furious. You had never seen Edward so livid before. He looked like a wild stallion ready to break free any moment as he was jerking furiously on the chains that bound him.

“By law, I can’t hurt her,” the man reminded the angry pirate, turning to Edward once more with a fake look of worry over the empty threats he was fed. “But, I can still do as I please with you, Edward Kenway!”

Seeing Edward harshly kicked in the chest made you cringe as you tried not to watch, but you were desperate to know he would be alright from all of the pain they would inflict upon the pirate. The single kick became several and just the horrible wheezing sound the assassin was making was enough to make you cringe. “Please, don’t…! Don’t hurt him!”

“Say what we want to know, and we won’t!” the guard reminded you as he grabbed onto Edward’s hair to tug upon him in a demeaning way.

You struggled with the thought. It was easier to hide the information you knew when it was just you, but now it was Edward in the mix. Eyes meeting his, you saw him shake his head slowly as he glared at you—demanding your silence with just his expression. ‘Don’t do it’ you saw him mouth to you.

So badly the truth wanted to bubble forth from your throat, but you swallowed back the attempt each time. Lowering your head in surrender, you sighed shakily. “I can’t…I don’t know anything…” you said to the guard. You were lying (partially), but you weren’t going to get Edward in more trouble or yourself.

The interrogation went on for hours. After awhile, you had to look away or you risked screaming the truth just to make it all stop, but even the sounds of Edward’s agony was vivid and tormenting enough, and your patience and courage were truly tested in the matter.

But you made it…more or less. Edward was practically dragged back to his cell when the questioning was finished. Seeing him so limp made you worry he was dead, but, while his breathing was shallow, you could tell he was still very much alive given the small movement of his fingers and the tightening of his chest now and again when he breathed.

Your cell door opened and your bindings removed, you made your way inside without hesitation and waited for the guards to lock away Edward and leave the two of you alone before you called out to him. “E-Edward…? Are you alright…?”

Silence. Maybe he was just out cold?

The night was quiet without him to keep you company. You did hear him move at some point or another, but you just assumed he was situating himself to sleep as it sounded like an exhausted ‘thud’ than anything. It was as though his body just gave out. All you could do was pray he was alright…

 

\--

 

Edward was alright, and while that would usually be relief, he was coming back later and later to his cell until he didn’t come back at all. You were eight months along, and it seemed, in the end, you’d have this baby without him there. With Edward no longer next door to you after a week, you started to mourn his assumed death. They were beating him so much, you’d be surprised if he even was alive at this point.

Crying hysterically in your cell, you hated that this was how God saw fit for it to end. You to give birth without the father there to help or experience the joy of it and for you to possibly die in the process of it as you were in the worst place imaginable to have a child. You felt so forsaken. As the hours went onwards, you heard a tapping at the cell doors and proceeded to ignore it till you heard the door open and a familiar voice to beckon.

“Lass!” came Edward’s voice in a hushed manner as you felt his hand upon you soon.

Head up off of your overlapped arms, you looked to him in disbelief. He was actually alive…? Where had he been lately? Your hands to his warm face, the tears triggered once more as you were happy to know this wasn’t some dream. “Oh, Edward—!”

“Come on!” Edward interrupted, grabbing your hands and helping you to stand best he was able. “I am going to get us out of here!”

As you stood on your wobbly, weak legs, you saw a hooded assassin there at the chamber entrance waiting for you as he was keeping an eager lookout. “H-How…?” you dreaded to ask as you leaned on Edward for support best you could. It was surprising how much energy he still had with all he had been through. “And…what of the others…?”

“They’re out,” Edward answered, helping you along the corridors that had been cleared of guards. “At least, the ones that made it through the months.”

The prison wasn’t completely void of men patrolling, so traversing some locations was a bit of a challenge with you heavy with child. However, a rowboat was waiting you both as the Jackdaw was nowhere to be found. Did the British demolish it or sell it…? You were a bit worried to ask as you knew it was a ship Edward treasured.

“Where will we go from here…?” you asked as Edward pushed it out to sea before hopping onboard after he had helped you into it.

“To the Great Inagua Hideout,” Edward answered simply, taking to paddling the boat you both had to use for your escape. “Hopefully, if the assassins kept their word, they got me the Jackdaw back.”

“So the ship is still in one piece?” you asked, hope swelling in your heart once more.

“Aye,” he answered, putting everything he had into his paddling as he wanted to get as far away as possible. “At least, from what I was told by a fellow comrade.” Edward grunted (perhaps in pain) as he looked to you curiously. “And of you? Are you alright?”

You shrugged your shoulders, lower lip trembling. “I am scared…shaken…I was worried you had died, as I had not seen you in forever…”

“No, love,” Edward answered, sounding sorrowful in his tone. “I was enduring other ‘treatments’ outside of the prison cell.” He was intent to leave you without details, it seemed and, with how rough the months had been—images and sounds that would cause you nightmares for years to come—, you had to admit this suited you just fine.

 

\--

 

For a few days, you stayed at the Great Inagua Hideout with Edward and his crew. The Jackdaw was recovered, but Edward never took her back out to sea upon retrieving the ship. He was intent to stay at the mansion the island had to offer to keep a close watch on you.

“What will you do now?” you found yourself asking Edward after the smoke had settled finally. He was admiring the view out on the balcony, causing you to join him one late afternoon. “Will you take the King’s pardon and actually go back to England?” Your hand upon his shoulder, you squeezed it tightly. “Choose your decision wisely, love, as you had a taste of prison life and just escaped the cold grip of death with those closest to you.”

“And you were tortured twice because of my lousy decisions,” Edward said in a means to scoff at himself. His grip on the railing of the balcony tightened as he thought long and hard on it. “We sail back to England tomorrow.” It almost sounded like the words were painful to speak. Whatever for, you couldn’t say. He was a man of many secrets and inner desires he wouldn’t have you the pleasure of knowing about.

“So soon?” you questioned, wondering why he wanted to do this right away.

“Aye, because I’d rather you have this baby in the capable hands of someone than under my supervision and the watch of God,” said Edward nervously, turning to take your hands into his own. “I don’t want to worry of you taking your last breath and losing your life while giving birth to another.” Moving forwards, he kissed your lips—letting it linger before moving to kiss the slope of your nose. “I need to stop running from my responsibilities and be a father.”

Closing your eyes to take in his honesty and tender affection, you held onto his hands tightly for strength as well as to give it. “So you will come home with us?” you whispered, hope swelling in your chest as you waited for his answer.

“Aye,” Edward answered, having the courage to face you now as he looked into your eyes. “As long as you promise to be there, I can face anything, I reckon.”

All you could do was smile. A small laugh escaping your throat as you looked down and away from him as if becoming bashful by his comment.

“Listen, lass…I am sorry about—.”

It was your turn to shush him, as you knew what he was going to say. Fingertips to his lips to still the words from forming, you dared not hear an apology that wasn’t needed. “Let’s enjoy this place to its fullest till we head home tomorrow then, yeah?” you mused with a crooked smile, swinging his hands idly from side to side with your own. “It is a good way to say goodbye to the old part of us before starting over.”

Edward didn’t disagree. If anything, he smiled, and with your hands in his, he followed you up on your offer.


End file.
